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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hypolympia, by Edmund Gosse
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Hypolympia
+       Or, The Gods in the Island, an Ironic Fantasy
+
+
+Author: Edmund Gosse
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 7, 2009  [eBook #28270]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HYPOLYMPIA***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Bryan Ness, C. St. Charleskindt, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+  _Verse by the Same Author_
+
+    ON VIOL AND FLUTE
+    KING ERIK
+    FERDAUSI IN EXILE
+    IN RUSSET AND SILVER
+
+
+
+HYPOLYMPIA
+
+Or
+
+The Gods in the Island
+
+_An Ironic Fantasy_
+
+by
+
+EDMUND GOSSE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+William Heinemann
+1901
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+_The scene of this fantasy is an island, hitherto inhabited by
+Lutherans, in a remote but temperate province of Northern Europe.
+The persons are the Gods of Ancient Greece. The time is early in
+the Twentieth Century._
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+[_A terrace high above the sea, which is seen far below, through
+    vast masses of woodland. Steps lead down towards the water, from
+    the centre of the scene. To the left, a large, low country-house,
+    of unpretentious character, in the style of the late eighteenth
+    century. Gardens belonging to the same period, and now somewhat
+    neglected and overgrown, stretch on either side. The edge of the
+    terrace is marked by a stone balustrade, with a stone seat running
+    round it within. At the top of steps, ascending, appear_ APHRODITE
+    _and_ EROS.]
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+A moment, Eros. Let us sit here. What can this flutter at my girdle
+be? I breathe with difficulty. Oh! Eros, can this be death?
+
+EROS.
+
+Death? Ah! no; you have roses in your cheeks, mother. Your lips are
+like blood.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+It must be weariness. Ever these new sensations, these odd,
+exciting apprehensions! This must be mortality. I never breathed
+the faster as I rose from terrace to terrace in Cythera.
+
+EROS.
+
+Yet this is like Cythera--a little like it. [_Looking round._] It
+is not the least like it. These round billowy woods, that grey
+strip of sea far below, the long smooth land with square yellow
+fields and pointed brown fields, and the wild grey sky above. No;
+it would be impossible for anything to be less like Cythera.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Yet it is like it. [_Gazing round._] How strange ... to be where
+everything is not azure and gold and white--white land, gold houses
+and blue sky and sea. What are these woods, Eros?
+
+EROS.
+
+Are they beech-woods?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I did not think that I could ever be happy again. I am not _happy_.
+But I am not miserable. Now that my heart is quiet again, I am not
+miserable. Oh! that sick tossing on the black sea, the nausea, the
+aching, the dulness; that I, who sprang from the waves, could come
+to hate them so. We will never venture on the sea, again?
+
+EROS.
+
+Then must we stay for ever here, since this is an island.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Yes, here for ever. For ever? We have no "for ever" now, Eros.
+
+    [_Enter, from the house_, CYDIPPE.]
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Is all prepared for us, Cydippe?
+
+CYDIPPE.
+
+I have done my best. The barbarian people are kind and clean. They
+have blue eyes. There is one, with marigold curls and a crisp
+beard, who has brought up water and logs of wood. There are two
+maidens, with hair like a wheat-field and rough red fingers. There
+are others.... I know not. All seem civil and frightened. But your
+Majesty will be wretched.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+No, Cydippe, I think I shall be happy.
+
+EROS [_walking to the parapet, and looking down_].
+
+Our white ship still lies there, mother. Shall we start again?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+On that leaden water, with the little cruel breakers like coriander
+seeds? Never. And whither should we go, Eros? We have lost our
+golden home, our only home. We have lost the old white world of
+empire; any grey corner of the world of stillness is good enough
+for us. I will eat, and lie down, and rest without that long,
+awful heave of the intolerable ocean. Which way, Cydippe?
+
+    [APHRODITE _and_ CYDIPPE _enter the house_.]
+
+EROS [_alone_].
+
+This little milk-white flower, with the drop of wine in it.... It
+is like the grass that grows on the slopes of Parnassus. It is the
+only home-like thing here. Can that be grey wool that hangs in the
+sky, and droops like a curtain over the opposite hills? How cold
+the air is! Ah! it is raining over in the other island, and the
+brown fields grow like the yellow fields, melt into a mere white
+mist behind the slate-coloured sea. Here is one of the barbarians.
+
+    [POSEIDON _slowly appears at the top of the steps_.]
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+Ah, you here alone, Eros?
+
+EROS [_aside_].
+
+It is Poseidon! How old and bluff he looks! [_To_ POSEIDON.] My
+mother is within. [_Smiling._] She was angry with you, Poseidon,
+but her anger is fallen.
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+Adversity brings us all together. It was once I who burned with
+anger against her. Why was she angry?
+
+EROS.
+
+The cruelty of your sea; it shook and sickened her.
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+It once was her sea, too. Now it is not even mine.... Rebellion
+everywhere, everywhere the servant risen against the master,
+everywhere our spells and portents broken. I rule the sea still,
+but it is as a man holds in a wild horse with a hard rein: it obeys
+with hatred, it would obey not one moment after the master's hand
+was withdrawn.
+
+EROS.
+
+How cold it is. But I am not disconsolate. Nor should you be,
+Poseidon, for you will have the sea to occupy your thoughts.
+Hephæstus will help you to break it in. He at least should be
+consoled, for in our fallen estate his magical ingenuity will
+employ his brain.
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+We have never needed to be ingenious. It has been enough for us
+to command, to wield the elements like weapons, to say it shall
+be and to see it is.
+
+EROS.
+
+To see it is not, and yet to make it be, perhaps this may be a joy
+in store for us. For Hephæstus, certainly; for you, if you are
+wise; but for me, ah! what will there be? My arrows break against
+old hearts, and now we all are old.
+
+    [PALLAS ATHENE _comes rapidly down the steps from the house
+        and speaks while still behind_ EROS.]
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I have brought with me the box which Epimetheus made for Pandora.
+
+EROS [_turning suddenly_].
+
+Ah! Pallas! What, you have brought that ivory box with you? Why
+did you burden your hands with that?
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I snatched it from the burning palace. There is something strange at
+the bottom of it--something like an opal, with a violet flame in it.
+
+EROS.
+
+Alas! we have no great need of jewels here. This shining beech-leaf
+is the treasure you should wear, Pallas. See, a little bough of it,
+bent just above the white enamel of your forehead. It will be as
+green as a beryl to-day, and red like copper to-morrow, and perhaps
+you will need no third adornment.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+There is something in the carven box which the shrieking oracle
+commended to me. "Take this," it said, "take this, and it will turn
+the blackness of exile into living light."
+
+EROS.
+
+Poor oracle, it became mad before it became dumb.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I was the only one of us all, Eros, who anticipated this change.
+High up above the glaciers of Olympus, where the warm crystal shone
+like ice, and the faint cumuli rained jasmine on us, and the blue
+light was like the cold acid of a fruit, in the midst of our
+incomparable felicity I pondered on the vicissitude of things.
+
+EROS.
+
+You only, I remember, ever heeded the foolish screaming oracle
+that moaned for mortals. You always had something of the mortal
+temperament, Pallas. It jarred upon my mother that you seem to
+shudder even at the voluptuous turmoil of the senses. She said
+you always looked old. You look younger now than she does,
+Pallas.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I am neither old nor young. I know not what I am. But this grey
+colour and those blowing woods are not unpleasing to me. I can
+be _myself_, even here, on a beech-wood peak in the cold sea.
+
+    [_Enter up the steps_ ZEUS, _leaning heavily on_ GANYMEDE,
+        _and attended by many other Gods_.]
+
+EROS, POSEIDON, _and_ PALLAS.
+
+Hail! father and king!
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I can push on no farther. Why have I brought you here? [_Gazing
+round._] Nay, it is you who have brought me here. [_He moves up the
+scene._] I have a demon in my legs, that swells them, breaks them,
+crushes me down. [_To_ GANYMEDE.] You are careless; stiffen your
+shoulder, it slopes like a woman's. I have lost my thunderbolt, I
+have lost everything. Shall I be _bound_ upon this muddy, slippery
+rock? What is that horror in the sky?
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+It is some dark bird of the north; it seeks a prey in the
+woodlands.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I think it is a vulture. My eagle fled from me when the rebel
+whistled to it. It perched beside him, and smoothed its crest
+against his elbow. All have left me, even my eagle.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Father, we have not left you. We are about you here. One by one the
+alleys of the beech-wood will open, and one after one we shall all
+gather here, all your children, all the Olympians.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+But where is Olympus? I hardly know you. [_Gazing blankly about
+him._] Are you my children? You [_to_ PALLAS] gaze at me with eyes
+like those I hated most.
+
+EROS.
+
+Whose eyes, father and king?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I will not say. Are you sure [_to_ POSEIDON] that is not a vulture?
+I am torn, see, here under my beard, by a thorn. I can feel pain at
+last, _I_, who could only inflict it.
+
+EROS.
+
+Pallas has something in a box----
+
+ZEUS [_vehemently_].
+
+There is nothing in any box, there is nothing in any island, there
+is nothing in all the empty caskets of this world which can give
+me any happiness. Is it in this shanty that we must live? Lead me
+on, Ganymede, lead me on into it, that I may sink down and sleep.
+Walk slowly and walk steadily, wretched boy.
+
+    [_He passes into the house, followed by all the others._]
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+[_The terrace as before. Early morning, with warm sunshine. Enter_
+    CIRCE, _very carefully helping_ KRONOS _down the steps of the
+    house_. RHEA _follows, leaning on a staff_. CIRCE _places_ KRONOS
+    _in one throne, and sees_ RHEA _comfortably settled in another.
+    Then she sits on the ground between them, at_ RHEA'S _knees_.]
+
+CIRCE.
+
+There! We are all comfortable now. How did Kronos sleep, Rhea?
+
+RHEA.
+
+He has not complained this morning. [_Raising her voice._] Did
+you sleep, Kronos?
+
+KRONOS [_vaguely_].
+
+Yes, oh yes! I always sleep. Why should I not sleep?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+These new arrangements--I was afraid they might disturb you.
+
+RHEA [_to_ CIRCE].
+
+He notices very little. I do not think he recollects that there has
+been any change. Already he forgets Olympus. [_After a pause._] It
+is very thoughtful of you, Circe, to take so much trouble about us.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I have been anxious about you both. All the rest of us ought to be
+able to console ourselves, but I am afraid that you will find it
+very difficult to live in the new way.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Kronos will soon have forgotten that there was an old way; and as
+for me, Circe, I have seen so much and wandered in so many places,
+that one is as another to me.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+Is it Zeus who has driven us forth?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Oh no! Zeus has led us hither. It was he who was attacked, it was
+against him that the rage of the enemy was directed.
+
+KRONOS [_to himself_].
+
+He let me stay where I was. We were not driven forth before, Rhea,
+were we? When I saw that it was hopeless, I did not struggle; I
+rose and took you by the hand....
+
+RHEA.
+
+Yes; and we went half-way down the steps of the throne together....
+
+KRONOS [_very excitedly_].
+
+And we bowed to Zeus....
+
+RHEA.
+
+And he walked forward as if he did not see us....
+
+KRONOS.
+
+And then we came down, and I [_all his excitement falls from him_]
+I cannot quite remember. Did he strike us, Rhea?
+
+RHEA.
+
+Oh! no, no! He swept straight on, and did not so much as seem to
+see us, and in a moment he was up in the throne, and all the gods,
+the new and the old, were bowing to him with acclamation.
+
+CIRCE [_looking up at_ RHEA, _with eager sympathy_].
+
+What did _you_ do, you poor dears?
+
+RHEA [_after a pause_].
+
+We did nothing.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+Zeus let us stay then. Why has he driven us out now?
+
+RHEA [_aside_].
+
+He does not understand, Circe. It is very sweet of you to be so
+kind to us, but you must go back now to your young companions.
+Who is here?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I think we are all here, or nearly all. I have not seen Iris, but
+surely all the rest are here.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Is Zeus very much disturbed? On the ship I heard Æolus say that
+it was impossible to go near him, he was so unreasonably angry.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Yes, he thought that our miseries were all the fault of Poseidon
+and Æolus. But mortality will make a great change in Zeus; I think
+perhaps a greater change than in any of us. He has eaten a very
+substantial breakfast. Æsculapius says that as Zeus has hitherto
+considered the quality of his food so much, it is probable that
+in these lower conditions it may prove to be quantity which will
+interest him most. He was greatly pleased with a curious kind of
+aromatic tube which Hermes invented for him this morning.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Does Zeus blow down it?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+No; he puts fire to one end of it, and draws in the vapour. He is
+delighted. How clever Hermes is, is he not, Rhea? What shall you
+do here?
+
+RHEA.
+
+I must look after Kronos, of course. But he gives me no trouble.
+And I do not need to do much more. I am very tired, Circe. I was
+tired in my immortality. When Kronos and I were young, things were
+so very different in Olympus.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+How were they different? Do tell me what happened. I have always
+longed to know, but it was not considered quite nice, quite
+respectful to Zeus, for us to ask questions about the Golden Age.
+But now it cannot matter; can it, Rhea?
+
+RHEA [_after a pause_].
+
+The fact is that when I look back, I cannot see very plainly any
+longer. Do you know, Circe, that after the younger Gods invaded
+Heaven, although Zeus was very good-natured to us, and let us go
+on as deities, something of our god-head passed away?
+
+KRONOS [_aloud, to himself_].
+
+I said to him, "If I am unwelcome, I can go." And he answered,
+"Pray don't discommode yourself." Just like that; very politely,
+"Don't discommode yourself." And now he drives us away after all.
+
+CIRCE [_flinging herself over to_ KRONOS' _knees_].
+
+Oh! Kronos, he does not drive you away! It is not he. It is our
+new enemies, not of our own race, that have driven us. And we are
+all here--Pallas, Ares, Phoebus--we are all here. You like Hermes,
+do you not, Kronos? Well, Hermes is here, and he will amuse you.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+I thought that Zeus had forgiven us. But never mind, never mind!
+
+RHEA.
+
+We are tired, Circe. And what does the new life matter to us now?
+The old life had run low, and we had long been prepared for
+mortality by the poverty of our immortality.
+
+    [_Enter_ HERMES _running_.]
+
+HERMES [_in reply to a gesture of_ CIRCE].
+
+I cannot stay. I am trying to rouse Demeter from her dreadful state
+of depression. She sits in the palace heaving deep sighs, and doing
+absolutely nothing else. It will affect her heart, Æsculapius say.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+She has always been so closely wedded to the study of agriculture,
+and now....
+
+HERMES.
+
+Precisely. And it has occurred to me that the way to rouse her
+will be to send Persephone to her in a little country cart I have
+discovered. I have two mouse-coloured ponies already caught and
+harnessed--such little beauties. The only thing left to do is to
+search for Persephone.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I will find her in a moment. [_Exit._]
+
+RHEA.
+
+We hear that you have already invented a means of amusing Zeus,
+Hermes? Is he prepared to forget his thunderbolt?
+
+HERMES.
+
+He has mentioned it only twice this morning, and I have set
+Hephæstus to work to make him another, of yew-tree wood. It will
+be less incommodious, more fitted to this place, and in a very
+short time Zeus will forget the original.
+
+KRONOS [_loudly, to himself_].
+
+Zeus gave me an orb and sceptre to console me. I used to play cup
+and ball with them behind his throne.
+
+RHEA [_in a solicitous aside to_ HERMES].
+
+Oh! it is not true. Kronos' mind now wanders so strangely. He
+thinks that it is Zeus who has turned him out of Olympus.
+
+HERMES [_in the same tone_].
+
+Do not distress him, Rhea, by contradiction and explanation. I will
+find modes of amusing him a little every day, and, for the rest,
+let him doze in the sunshine. His mind is worn so smooth that it
+fails any longer to catch in ideas as they flit against it. They
+pass off, glide away. It is useless, Rhea, to torment Kronos.
+
+RHEA.
+
+I shall watch him, all day long. For I, too, am weary. Do not
+propose to me, with your restless energy, any fresh interests. Let
+me sit, with my cold hands folded in my lap, and look at Kronos,
+nodding, nodding. It is very kind of Circe, but we are too old for
+love; and of you, but we are too old for amusement. Let us rest,
+Hermes, rest and sleep; perhaps dream a little, dream of the
+far-away past.
+
+    [CIRCE _and_ PERSEPHONE _enter from the left_.]
+
+PERSEPHONE [_to_ HERMES].
+
+My mother requires so much activity of mind and body. You must not
+believe that I was neglecting her. But I went forth in despair this
+morning to see what I could invent, adapt, discover, as a means
+of rousing her. I am stupid, I could think of nothing. I wandered
+through the woods, down the glen, along the sea-shore, up the side
+of the tarn and of the marsh, but I could think of nothing.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+And when I found Persephone she was lying, flung out among the
+flowers, with bees and butterflies leaping round her in the
+sunshine, and the beech-leaves singing their faint song of peace.
+It was beautiful, it was like Enna--with, ah! such a difference.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Circe does not tell you that I was so foolish as to be in tears.
+But now it seems that you have invented an occupation for Ceres?
+You are so divinely ingenious.
+
+HERMES.
+
+I hope it may be successful.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Tell me what it is.
+
+HERMES.
+
+I have found at the back of the palace a small rural waggon, and
+I have caught two ponies, with coats like grey velvet, and great
+antelopes' eyes--dear little creatures. I have harnessed them, and
+now I want you to sit in this cart, while I am dressed like some
+herdsman of these barbarians, and lead the ponies, and we will go
+together to coax Demeter out into the fields.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Oh! Hermes, how splendid of you. Let us fly to carry out your plan.
+Circe, will you not come with us?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Or shall I not rather go to prepare the mind of Demeter for an
+agreeable surprise? Shall you be happy by yourselves, Kronos and
+Rhea?
+
+RHEA.
+
+Quite happy, for we desire to sleep.
+
+    [_Exit_ CIRCE _to right_, HERMES _and_ PERSEPHONE _to left_.]
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+[_A ring of turf, in a hollow of the slope, surrounded by beech-trees,
+    except on one side, where a marsh descends to a small tarn. Over
+    the latter is rising the harvest moon._ PHOEBUS APOLLO _alone;
+    he watches the luminary for a long time in silence_.]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+  Selene! sister!--since that tawny shell,
+  Stained by thy tears and hollowed by thy sighs,
+  Recalls thee still to mind--dost thou regard,
+  From some tumultuous covert of this woodland,
+  Thy whilom sphere and palace? Nun of the skies,
+  In coy virginity of pulse, thy hands
+  Repelled me when I sought to win thy lair,
+  Fraternal, with no thoughts but humorous ones;
+  And in thy chill revulsion, through thy skies,
+  At my advance thy crystal home would fade,
+  A ghost, a shadow, a film, a papery dream.
+  Thou and thy moon were one. What is it now,
+  Thy phantom paradise of gorgeous pearl,
+  With sibilant streams and palmy tier on tier
+  Of wind-bewhitened foliage? Still it floats,
+  As when thy congregated harps and viols
+  Beat slow harmonious progress, light on light,
+  Across our stainless canopy of heaven.
+  Ah! but how changed, Selene! If thy form
+  Crouches among these harsher herbs, O turn
+  Thy withering face away, and press thine eyes
+  To darkness in the strings of dusty heather,
+  Since that loose globe of orange pallor totters,
+  Racked with the fires of anarchy, and sheds
+  The embers of thy glory; and the cradles
+  Of thy imperial maidenhood are foul
+  With sulphur and the craterous ash of hell.
+  O gaze not, sister, on the loathsome wreck
+  Of what was once thy moon. Yet, if thou must
+  With tear-fed eyes visit thine ancient realm,
+  Bend down until the fringe of thy faint lids
+  Hides all save what is in this tarn reflected--
+  Cold, pallid, swimming in the lustrous pool,
+  There only worthy of thy clear regard,
+  A vision purified in woe.
+
+    [_The reeds in the tarn are stirred, and there is audible a faint
+        shriek and a ripple of laughter. A shrouded figure rises from
+        the marsh, and, hastening by_ PHOEBUS _through the darkness,
+        is lost in the woods. It is followed closely by_ PAN, _who,
+        observing_ PHOEBUS, _pauses in embarrassment_.]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+I thought I was alone.
+
+PAN.
+
+And so did we, sire.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Am I to congratulate you on your distractions?
+
+PAN.
+
+I have a natural inclination to marshy places.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+This is a ghastly night, Pan.
+
+PAN.
+
+I had not observed it, sire. Yes, doubtless a ghastly night.
+But I was occupied, and I am no naturalist. This glen curiously
+reminded me of rushy Ladon. I am a great student of reeds, and
+I was agreeably surprised to find some very striking specimens
+here--worthy of the Arcadian watercourses, as I am a deity. I
+should say, _was_ a deity.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+They will help, perhaps, to reconcile you to mortality. You can
+add them to your collection.
+
+PAN.
+
+That, sire, is my hope. The stems are particularly full and smooth,
+and the heads of the best of them rustle back with a profusion of
+flaxen flowerage, remarkably agreeable to the touch. I broke one as
+your Highness approached. But the wind, or some goblin, bore it
+from me. This curious place seems full of earth-spirits.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+You must study them, too, Pan. That will supply you with another
+object.
+
+PAN.
+
+But the marsh water has a property unknown to the Olympian springs.
+I suspect it of being poisoned. After standing long in it, I found
+myself troubled with aching in the shank, from knee to hoof. If
+this is repeated, my studies of reed-life will be made dolorously
+difficult.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+It must now be part of your pleasure to husband your enjoyments.
+You have always rolled in the twinkle of the vine-leaves, hot
+enough and not too hot, with grapes--immense musky clusters--just
+within your reach. If you think of it philosophically----
+
+PAN.
+
+How, sire?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Philosophically.... Well, if you think of it sensibly, you will
+see that there was a certain dreariness in this uniformity of
+satisfaction. Rather amusing, surely, to find the cluster
+occasionally spring up out of reach, to find the polished waist
+of the reed slip from your hands? Occasionally, of course; just
+enough to give a zest to pursuit.
+
+PAN.
+
+Ah! there was pursuit in Ladon, but it was pursuit which always
+closed easily in capture. What I am afraid of is that here capture
+may prove the exception. Your Highness ... but a slight family
+connection and our adversities are making me strangely familiar....
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Speak on, my good Pan.
+
+PAN.
+
+Your Highness was once something of a botanist?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+A botanist? Ah, scarcely! A little arboriculture, the laurel; a
+little horticulture, the sun-flower. Those varieties seem entirely
+absent here, and I have no thought of replacing them.
+
+PAN.
+
+The last thing I should dream of suggesting would be a _hortus
+siccus_....
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+And I was never a consistent collector. There are reeds everywhere,
+you fortunate goat-foot, but even in Olympus I was the creature of
+a fastidious selection.
+
+PAN.
+
+The current of the thick and punctual blood never left me liable
+to the distractions of choice.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+I congratulate you, Pan, upon your temperament, and I recommend
+to you a further pursuit of the attainable.
+
+    [PAN _makes a profound obeisance and disappears in the woodland_.
+        PHOEBUS _watches him depart, and then turns to the moon_.]
+
+PHOEBUS [_alone_].
+
+His familiarity was not distasteful to me. It reminded me of days
+out hunting, when I have come suddenly upon him at the edge of the
+watercourse, and have shared his melons and his conversation. I
+anticipate for him some not unagreeable experiences. The lower
+order of divinities will probably adapt themselves with ease
+to our new conditions. They despaired the most suddenly, with
+wringing of hands as we raced to the sea, with interminable
+babblings and low moans and screams, as they clustered on the deck
+of that extraordinary vessel. But the science of our new life must
+be to forget or to remember. We must live in the past or forego
+the past. For Pan and his likes I conceive that it will largely
+resolve itself into a question of temperature--of temperature and
+of appetite. That orb is of a sinister appearance, but to do it
+justice it looks heated. My sister had a passion for coldness; she
+would never permit me to lend her any of my warmth. I cannot say
+that it is chilly here to-night. I am agreeably surprised.
+
+    [_The veiled figure flits across again, and_ PAN _once more
+        crosses in close pursuit_.]
+
+PHOEBUS [_as they vanish_].
+
+What an amiable vivacity! Yes; the lower order of divinities will
+be happy, for they will forget. We, on the contrary, have the
+privilege of remembering. It is only the mediocre spirits, that
+cannot quite forget nor clearly remember, which will have neither
+the support of instinct nor the solace of a vivid recollection.
+
+    [_He seats himself. A noise of laughter rises from the marsh,
+        and dies away. In the silence a bird sings._]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Not the Daulian nightingale, of course, but quite a personable
+substitute: less prolongation of the triumph, less insistence upon
+the agony. How curiously the note breaks off! Some pleasant little
+northern bird, no doubt. I experience a strange and quite
+unprecedented appetite for moderation. The absence of the thrill,
+the shaft, the torrent is not disagreeable. The actual Phocian
+frenzy would be disturbing here, out of place, out of time. I must
+congratulate this little, doubtless brown, bird on a very
+considerable skill in warbling. But the moon--what is happening
+to _it_? It is not merely climbing higher, but it is manifestly
+clarifying its light. When I came, it was copper-coloured, now it
+is honey-coloured, the horn of it is almost white like milk. This
+little bird's incantation has, without question, produced this
+fortunate effect. This little bird, halfway on the road between
+the nightingale and the cicada, is doubtless an enchanter, and one
+whose art possesses a more than respectable property. My sister's
+attention should be drawn to this highly interesting circumstance.
+Selene! Selene!
+
+    [_He calls and waits. From the upper woods_ SELENE _slowly
+        descends, wrapped in long white garments_.]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Sister, behold the throne that once was thine.
+
+SELENE.
+
+And now, a rocking cinder, fouls the skies.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+A magian sweeps its filthy ash away.
+
+SELENE.
+
+There is no magic in the bankrupt world.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Nay, did'st thou hear this twittering peal of song?
+
+SELENE.
+
+Some noise I heard; this glen is full of sounds.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Fling back thy veil, and staunch thy tears, and gaze.
+
+SELENE.
+
+At thee, my brother, not at my darkened orb.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Gaze then at me. What seest thou in mine eyes?
+
+SELENE.
+
+Foul ruddy gleams from what was lately pure.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Nay, but thou gazest not. Look up, look at me!
+
+SELENE.
+
+But on thy sacred eyeballs fume turns fire.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Nay, then, turn once and see thy very moon.
+
+SELENE [_turning round_].
+
+Ah! wonder! the volcanic glare is gone.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+The wizard bird has sung the fumes away.
+
+SELENE.
+
+Empty it seems, and vain; but foul no more.
+
+PHOEBUS [_approaching her, and in a confidential tone_].
+
+I will not disguise from you, Selene, my apprehension that the
+hideous colour may return. Your moon is divorced from yourself,
+and can but be desecrated and forlorn. But at least it should
+be a matter of interest to you--yes, even of gratification, my
+sister--that this little bird, if it be a bird, has an enchanting
+power of temporarily relieving it and raising it.
+
+    [SELENE, _manifestly more cheerful, ascends to the wood on
+        the left_. PHOEBUS, _turning again to the moon_,]
+
+I have observed that this species of mysterious agency has a very
+salutary effect upon the more melancholy of our female divinities.
+They are satisfied if they have the felicity of waiting for
+something which they cannot be certain of realising, and which they
+attribute to a cause impossible to investigate. [_To_ SELENE,
+_raising his voice_.] Whither do you go, my sister?
+
+SELENE.
+
+I am searching for this little bird. I propose to discuss with
+it the nature of its extraordinary, and I am ready to admit its
+gratifying, control over the moon. I think it possible that I may
+concoct with it some scheme for our return. You shall, in that
+case, Phoebus, be no longer excluded from my domain.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Let me urge you to do no such thing. The action of this little
+bird upon your unfortunate luminary is sympathetic, but surely
+very obscure. It would be a pity to inquire into it so closely
+as to comprehend it.
+
+    [SELENE, _without listening to him, passes up into the woods,
+        and exit_.]
+
+PHOEBUS [_alone_].
+
+To comprehend it might even be to discover that it does not exist.
+Whereas to come here night after night, in the fragrant darkness,
+to see the unhallowed lump of fire creep out of the lake, to
+listen for the first clucks and shakes of the sweet little
+purifying song, and to watch the orb growing steadily more hyaline
+and lucent under its sway, how delicious! The absolute harmony and
+concord of nature would be then patent and recurrent before us.
+My poor sister! However, it is consoling to reflect that she is
+almost certain not to be able to find that bird.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+[_The same glen._ ÆSCULAPIUS _alone, busily arranging a great
+    cluster of herbs which he has collected. He sits on a large
+    stone, with his treasures around him_.]
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Yew--an excellent styptic. Tansy, rosemary. Spurge and marsh
+mallow. The best pellitory I ever plucked out of a wall. The herbs
+of this glen are admirable. They surpass those of the gorges of
+Cyllene. Is this lavender? The scent seems more acrid.
+
+    [_Enter_ PALLAS _and_ EUTERPE.]
+
+PALLAS.
+
+You look enviably animated, Æsculapius. Your countenance is so
+fresh beneath that long white beard of yours, that the barbarians
+will suppose you to be some mad boy, masquerading.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+What will you do with these plants?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+These are my simples. As we shot through the Iberian narrows on our
+frantic voyage hither, my entire store was blown out of my hands
+and away to sea. The rarest sorts were flung about on rocks where
+nothing more valetudinarian than a baboon could possibly taste
+them. My earliest care on arriving here was to search these woods
+for fresh specimens, and my success has been beyond all hope. See,
+this comes from the wet lands on the hither side of the tarn----
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+Where Selene is now searching for the wizard who draws the smoke
+away from the moon's face at night.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+This from the beck where it rushes down between the stems of
+mountain-ash, this from beneath the vast ancestral elm below the
+palace, this from the sea-shore. Marvellous! And I am eager to
+descend again; I have not explored the cliff which breaks the
+descent of the torrent, nor the thicket in the gully. There must
+be marchantia under the spray of the one, and possibly dittany in
+the peat of the other.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+We must not detain you, Æsculapius. But tell us how you propose
+to adapt yourself to our new life. It seems to me that you are
+determined not to find it irksome.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Does it not occur to you, Pallas, that--although I should never
+have had the courage to adopt it--thus forced upon us it offers
+me the most dazzling anticipations? Hitherto my existence has been
+all theory. What there is to know about the principles of health as
+applied to the fluctuations of mortality, I may suppose is known to
+me. You might be troubled, Pallas, with every conceivable malady,
+from elephantiasis to earache, and I should be in a position to
+analyse and to deal with each in turn. You might be obscured by
+ophthalmia, crippled by gout or consumed to a spectre by phthisis,
+and I should be able, without haste, without anxiety, to unravel
+the coil, to reduce the nodosities, to make the fleshy instrument
+respond in melody to all your needs.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+But you have never done this. We knew that you _could_ do it, and
+that has been enough for us.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+It has never been enough for me. The impenetrable immortality of
+all our bodies has been a constant source of exasperation to me.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Is it not much to know?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Yes; but it is more to _do_. The most perfect theory carries a
+monotony and an emptiness about with it, if it is never renovated
+by practice. In Olympus the unbroken health of all the inmates,
+which we have accepted as a matter of course, has been more
+advantageous to them than it has been to me.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I quite see that it has made your position a more academic one than
+you could wish.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+It has made it purely academic, and indeed, Pallas, if you will
+reflect upon it, the very existence of a physician in a social
+system which is eternally protected against every species of bodily
+disturbance borders upon the ridiculous.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+It would interest me to know whether in our old home you were
+conscious of this incongruity, of this lack of harmony between your
+science and your occasions of using it.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+No; I think not. I was satisfied in the possession of exact
+knowledge, and not directly aware of the charm of application. It
+is the result, no doubt, of this resignation of immortality which
+has startled and alarmed us all so much----
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Me, Æsculapius, it has neither alarmed nor startled.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+I mean that while we were beyond the dread of any attack, the
+pleasure of rebutting such attack was unknown to us. I have
+divined, since our misfortunes, that disease itself may bring an
+excitement with it not all unallied to pleasure.... You smile,
+Euterpe, but I mean even for the sufferer. There is more in
+disease than the mere pang and languishment. There is the sense
+of alleviation, the cessation of the throb, the resuming glitter
+in the eye, the restoration of cheerfulness and appetite. These,
+Pallas, are qualities which are indissolubly identified with pain
+and decay, and which therefore--if we rightly consider--were wholly
+excluded from our experience. In Olympus we never brightened, for
+we never flagged; we never waited for a pang to subside, nor felt
+it throbbing less and less poignantly, nor, as if we were watching
+an enemy from a distance, hugged ourselves in a breathless ecstasy
+as it faded altogether; this exquisite experience was unknown to
+us, for we never endured the pang.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+You make me eager for an illness. What shall it be? Prescribe one
+for me. I am ignorant even of the names of the principal maladies.
+Let it be a not unbecoming one.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Ah! no, Euterpe. Your mind still runs in the channel of your lost
+impermeability. Till now, you might fling yourself from the crags
+of Tartarus, or float, like a trail of water-plants, on the long,
+blown flood of the altar-flame, and yet take no hurt, being
+imperishable. But now, part of your hourly occupation, part of your
+faith, your hope, your duty, must be to preserve your body against
+the inroads of decay.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+You present us with a tedious conception of our new existence,
+surely.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Why should it be tedious? There was tedium, rather, in the
+possession of bodies as durable as metal, as renewable as wax,
+as insensitive as water. In the fiercest onset of the passions,
+prolonged to satiety, there was always an element of the unreal.
+What is pleasure, if the strain of it is followed by no fatigue;
+what the delicacy of taste, if we can eat like caverns and drink
+like conduits without being vexed by the slightest inconvenience?
+You will discover that one of the acutest enjoyments of the mortal
+state will be found to consist in guarding against suffering. If
+you are provided with balloons attached to all your members, you
+float upon the sea with indifference. It is the certainty that you
+will drown if you do not swim which gives zest to the exercise. I
+climb along yonder jutting cornice of the cliff with eagerness,
+and pluck my simples with a hand that trembles more from joy than
+fear, precisely because the strain of balancing the nerves, and
+the certainty of suffering as the result of carelessness, knit
+my sensations together into an exaltation which is not exactly
+pleasure, perhaps, but which is not to be distinguished from it
+in its exciting properties.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Is life, then, to resolve itself for us into a chain of
+exhilarating pangs?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Life will now be for you, for all of us, a perpetual combat with a
+brine that half supports, half drags us under; a continual creeping
+and balancing on a chamois path around the forehead of a precipice.
+A headache will be the breaking of a twig, a fever a stone that
+gives way beneath your foot, to lose the use of an organ will be
+to let the alpenstock slip out of your starting fingers. And the
+excitement, and be sure the happiness, of existence will be to
+protract the struggle as long as possible, to push as far as you
+can along the dwindling path, to keep the supports and the
+alleviations of your labour about you as skilfully as you can,
+and in the fuss and business of the little momentary episodes of
+climbing to forget as long and as fully as may be the final and
+absolutely unavoidable plunge. [_A pause, during which_ EUTERPE
+_sinks upon the green sward_.]
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+I have unfolded before you a scheme of philosophical activity. Are
+you not gratified?
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Euterpe will learn to be gratified, Æsculapius, but she had not
+reflected upon the plunge. If she will take my counsel, she will
+continue to avoid doing so. [EUTERPE _rises, and approaches_
+PALLAS, _who continues, to_ ÆSCULAPIUS.] I am with you in
+recommending to her a constant consideration of the momentary
+episodes of health. And now let us detain you no longer from the
+marchanteas.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+But pray recollect that they grow where the rocks are both slippery
+and shelving.
+
+    [_Exit_ ÆSCULAPIUS. EUTERPE _sinks again upon the grass, with her
+        face in her hands, and lies there motionless_. PALLAS _walks
+        up and down, in growing emotion, and at length breaks forth
+        in soliloquy_.]
+
+PALLAS.
+
+  Higher than this dull circle of the sense--
+  Shrewd though its pulsing sharp reminders be,
+  With ceaseless fairy blows that ring and wake
+  The anvil of the brain--I rather choose
+  To lift mine eyes and pierce
+  The long transparent bar that floats above,
+  And hides, or feigns to hide, the choiring stars,
+  And dulls, or faintly dulls, the fiery sun,
+  And lacquers all the glassy sky with gold.
+  For so the strain that makes this mortal life
+  Irksome or squalid, chains that bind us down,
+  Rust on those chains which soils the reddening skin,
+  Passes; and in that concentrated calm,
+  And in that pure concinnity of soul,
+  And in that heart that almost fails to beat,
+  I read a faint beatitude, and dream
+  I walk once more upon the roof of Heaven,
+  And feel all knowledge, all capacity
+  For sovereign thought, all intellectual joy,
+  Blow on me, like fluttering and like dancing winds.
+  We are fallen, fallen!...
+  And yet a nameless mirth, flooding my veins,
+  And yet a sense of limpid happiness
+  And buoyancy and anxious fond desire
+  Quicken my being. It is much to see
+  The perfected geography of thought
+  Spread out before the gorged intelligence,
+  A map from further detail long absolved.
+  But ah! when we have tasted the delight
+  Of toilsome apprehension, how return
+  To that satiety of mental ease
+  Where all is known because it merely is?
+  Nay, here the joy will be to learn and learn,
+  To learn in error and correct in pain,
+  To learn through effort and with ease forget,
+  Building of rough and slippery stones a House,
+  Long schemed, and falling from us, and at the last
+  Imperfect. Knowledge not the aim, so much
+  As pleasure in the toil that leads to knowledge,
+  We shall build, although the house before our eyes
+  Crumble, and we shall gladden in the toil
+  Although it never leads to habitation--
+  Building our goal, though never a fabric rise.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+[_The glen, down which a limpid and murmuring brook descends, with
+    numerous tiny cascades and pools. Beside one of the latter,
+    underneath a great beech-tree, and sitting on the root of it_,
+    APHRODITE, _alone. Enter from below, concealed at first by the
+    undergrowth_, ARES. _It is mid-day._]
+
+APHRODITE [_to herself_].
+
+Here he comes at last, and from the opposite direction.... No!
+that cannot be Phoebus.... Ah! it is you, then!
+
+ARES.
+
+Is it possible? Your Majesty--and alone!
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Phoebus offered me the rustic entertainment of gathering wild
+raspberries. We found some at length, and regaled ourselves. I
+wished for more, and Phoebus, with his usual gallantry, wandered
+dreamily away into the forest on the quest. He has evidently lost
+his way. I sat me down on this tree and waited.
+
+ARES.
+
+Surely it is the first time that you were ever abroad unattended.
+I am amazed at the carelessness of Phoebus. Aphrodite--without an
+attendant!
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+That is rather a fatuous remark, and from you of all people in
+the world. My most agreeable reminiscences are, without exception,
+connected with occasions on which I had escaped from my body-guard
+of nymphs. At the present moment you would do well to face the
+fact, Ares, that I have but a single maid, and that she has
+collapsed under the burdens of novelty and exile.
+
+ARES.
+
+Is that my poor friend Cydippe?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+You have so many friends, Ares. Poor Cydippe, then, broke down this
+morning in moaning hysterics after having borne up just long enough
+to do my hair. I really came out on this rather mad adventure after
+the raspberries to escape the dolours of her countenance, and
+the last thing I saw was her chlamys flung wildly over her head
+as she dived down upon the floor in misery. Such consolations as
+this island has to give me will not proceed from what you call my
+attendant. You do not look well, Ares.
+
+ARES.
+
+I am always well. I am still incensed.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Ah, you are oppressed by our misfortunes?
+
+ARES.
+
+I can think of nothing else.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+You do not, I hope, give way to the most foolish of the emotions,
+and endure the silly torture of self-reproach?
+
+ARES.
+
+I have nothing to reproach myself with. Our forces had never been
+in smarter trim, public spirit in Olympus never more patriotic
+and national; and as to the personal bravery of our forces, it was
+simply a portent of moral splendour.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+And your discipline?
+
+ARES.
+
+It was perfect. I had led the troops up to the point of cheerfully
+marching and counter-marching until they were ready to drop with
+exhaustion, on the eve of each engagement; and at the ends of all
+our practising-grounds brick walls had been set up, at which every
+officer made it a point of honour to tilt head-foremost once a day.
+There was no refinement preserved from the good old wars of
+chivalry which was not familiar to our gallant fellows, and I had
+expressly forbidden every species of cerebral exercise. Nothing,
+I have always said, is so hurtful to the temper of an army as for
+the rank and file to suspect that they are led by men of brains.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There every one must do you justice, Ares. I never heard even the
+voice of prejudice raised to accuse you.
+
+ARES.
+
+No; I do not think any one could have the effrontery to charge me
+with encouraging that mental effort which is so disastrous to the
+work of a soldier. The same old practices which led our forefathers
+to glory--the courage of tigers; the firm belief that if any one
+tried to be crafty it must be because he is a coward; a bull-front
+set straight at every obstacle, whatever its nature; a proper
+contempt for any plan or discovery made since the days of Father
+Uranus--these are the principles in which I disciplined our troops,
+and I will not admit that I can have anything to reproach myself
+with. The circumstances which we were unexpectedly called upon to
+face were such as could never have been anticipated.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I do not see that you could have done otherwise than, as you did,
+to refuse with dignity to anticipate anything so revolutionary.
+
+ARES.
+
+There are certain things which one seems to condone by merely
+acknowledging their existence. That employment of mobile
+mechanisms, for instance----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Do not speak of it! I could never have believed that the semblance
+of the military could be made so excessively distasteful to me.
+
+ARES.
+
+Can I imagine myself admitting the necessity of guarding against
+such an ungentlemanlike form of attack?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Your friends are all aware, Ares, that if the conditions were
+to return, you would never demean yourself and them by guarding
+against anything of the kind. But I advise you not to brood upon
+the past. Your figure will suffer. You must keep up your character
+for solid and agile exercises.
+
+ARES.
+
+It will not be easy for me to occupy myself here. I am accustomed,
+as you know, to hunting and slaying. I thought I might have enjoyed
+some sport with the barbarian islanders, and I selected one for the
+purpose. But Zeus intervened, with that authority which even here,
+in our shattered estate, we know not how to resist.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Did he give any reason for preventing the combat?
+
+ARES.
+
+Yes; and his reasons (I was bound to admit) carried some weight
+with them. He said, first, that it was wrong to kill those who had
+received us with so generous a hospitality; and secondly, that, as
+I am no longer immortal, this brawny savage, with hair so curiously
+coiled and matted over his brain-pan, might kill me; and thirdly,
+that the whole affair might indirectly lead to his, Zeus', personal
+inconvenience. Here then is enjoyment by one door quite shut out
+from me.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Are there not deer in these woods, and perhaps wolves and boars?
+There must be wild duck on the firth, and buzzards in the rocks.
+Instead of challenging the barbarians to a foolish trial of
+strength, why not make them your companions, and learn their
+accomplishments?
+
+ARES.
+
+It is possible that I shall do so. But for the present, anger
+gushes like an intermittent spring of bitter water in my bosom. I
+forget for a moment, and the fountain falls; and then, with a rush,
+memory leaps up in me, a column of poison. I say to myself, It cannot
+be, it shall not be; but I grow calm again and find that it is.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+The worst of the old immortality was the carelessness of it. We
+were utterly unprepared for anything bordering on catastrophe, and
+behold, without warning, we are swept away in a complete cataclysm
+of our fortunes. I see, Ares, that it will be long before you can
+recover serenity, or take advantage of the capabilities of our new
+existence. They will appeal to you more slowly than to the rest
+of us, and you will respond more unwillingly, because of your
+lack--your voluntary and boasted lack--of all intellectual
+suppleness.
+
+ARES.
+
+It is not the business of a soldier to be supple.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+So it appears. And you will suffer for it. For, stiff and blank as
+you may determine to be, circumstances will overpower you. Under
+their influences you will not be able to avoid becoming softer and
+more redundant. But you will resist the process, I see, and you
+will make it as painful as you can.
+
+ARES.
+
+You discuss my case with a cheerful candour, Aphrodite. Are you
+sure of being happier yourself?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Not _sure_; but I have a reasonable confidence that I shall be
+fairly contented. For I, at least, am supple, and I court the
+influences which you think it a point of gallantry to resist.
+
+ARES.
+
+You will continue, I suppose, to make your main business the
+stimulating and the guiding of the affections? Here I admit that
+suppleness, as you call it, is in place.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Unfortunately, even here, immortality was no convenient prelude
+to our present state. We did not, indeed, neglect the heart----
+
+ARES.
+
+If I forget all else, there must be events----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Alas! we loved so briefly and with so facile a susceptibility, that
+I am tempted to ask myself whether in Olympus we really loved at all.
+
+ARES [_with ardour_].
+
+There, at least, memory supplies me with no sort of doubt----
+
+APHRODITE [_coldly_].
+
+Let us keep to generalities. Looking broadly at our experience, I
+should say that the misfortune of the gods, as a preparation for
+their mortality, was that in their deathless state the affections
+fell at the foot of the tree, like these withered leaves. We should
+have fastened the branches of life together in long elastic wires
+of the thin-drawn gold of perdurable sentiment.
+
+ARES.
+
+The rapture, the violence, the hammering pulse, the bursting
+heart,--I see no resemblance between these and the leaves that
+flutter at our feet.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+These leaves had their moment of vitality, when the sap rushed
+through their veins, when their tissue was like a ripple of
+sparkling emerald on the face of the smiling sky. But they could
+not preserve their glow, and they are the more hopelessly dead
+now, because they burned in their green fire so fiercely.
+
+ARES.
+
+We felt no shadow of coming disability strike across our pleasures.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+No; but that was precisely what made our immortality such an ill
+preparation for a brief existence on this island. In Olympus the
+sentiment of yesterday was forgotten, and we realised the passion
+of to-day as little as the caprice of to-morrow. Perhaps this
+fragmentary tenderness was the real chastisement of our implacable
+prosperity.
+
+ARES [_in a very low voice_].
+
+Can we not resume in this our exile, and with more prospect of
+continuity, the emotions which were so agreeable in our former
+state? So agreeable--although, as you justly say, too ephemeral
+[_coming a little closer_]. Can you not teach us to moderate and
+to prolong the rapture?
+
+APHRODITE [_rising to her feet_].
+
+It may be. We shall see, Ares. But one thing I have already
+perceived. In this mortal sphere, the heart needs solitude, it
+needs silence. It must have its questionings and its despairs. The
+triumphant supremacy of the old emotions cannot be repeated here.
+For we have a new enemy to contend with. Even if love should
+prosecute its conquests here in all the serenity of success, it
+will not be able to escape from an infliction worse than any which
+we dreamed of when we were immortals.
+
+ARES.
+
+And what is that, Aphrodite?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+The blight of indifference.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+[APHRODITE _and_ CIRCE _are seated on the grass in a little dell
+    surrounded by beechwoods. Far away a bell is heard._]
+
+CIRCE.
+
+What is that curious distant sound? Is it a bird?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Cydippe tells me that there is a temple on the hill beyond these
+woods. I wonder to whom amongst us it is dedicated?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I think it must be to you, Aphrodite, for now it is explained that
+on coming hither I met a throng of men and maidens, sauntering
+slowly along in twos, exactly as they used to do at Paphos.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Were they walking apart, or wound together by garlands?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+They were wound together by the arm of the boy coiled about the
+waist of the girl, or resting upon it, a symbol, no doubt, of your
+cestus.
+
+APHRODITE [_eagerly_].
+
+With any animation of gesture, Circe?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+With absolutely none. The maidens were dressed--but not all of
+them--in robes of that very distressing electric blue that bites
+into the eye, that blue which never was on sky or sea, and which
+was absolutely banished from every colour-combination in Olympus.
+It was employed in Hades as a form of punishment, if you recollect.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+No doubt, then, this procession was a penitential one, and its
+object to appease my offended deity. But what a mistake, poor
+things! No one ever regained my favour by making a frump of herself.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+After these couples, came, in a very slow but formless moving
+group, figures of a sombre and spectral kind, draped, both males
+and females, in dull black, with little ornaments of gold in their
+hands. It was with the utmost amazement that, on their coming
+closer, I recognised some of the faces as those of the ruddy,
+gentle barbarians to whom we owe our existence here. You cannot
+think how painful it was to see them thus travestied. In their
+well-fitting daily dress they look very attractive in a rustic
+mode; there is one large one that labours in the barn, who
+reminds me, when his sleeves are turned up, of Ulysses. But, oh!
+Aphrodite, you must contrive to let them know that you pardon
+their shortcomings, and relieve them from the horrors of this
+remorseful costume. I know not which is more depressing to
+the heart, the blue of the young or the black of the aged.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I expect that at this distance from the centre of things, all
+manner of misconception has crept into my ritual. Of course, I
+cannot now demand any rites, and that the dear good people should
+pay them at all is very touching.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Don't you think that it would be delightful to introduce here a
+purer form of liturgy? It is very sad to see your spirit so little
+understood.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Well, I hardly know. It is kind of you, Circe, to suggest such a
+thing. No doubt it would be very pleasant. But I feel, of course,
+the hollowness of the whole concern. We must be careful not to
+deceive the barbarians.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Certainly ... oh! yes, certainly. But ... I am sure it would be so
+good for them to have a ritual to follow. We should not absolutely
+assert to them that you still exist as an immortal, but I do not
+see why we should insist on tearing every illusion away from them.
+Suppose I could persuade them that you were no longer displeased
+with them, and that you were quite willing to let them wear pink
+and white robes again, and plenty of flowers in their hair; and
+suppose I encouraged them to sacrifice turtle-doves on your altar,
+and arrange garlands of wild roses in the proper way, don't you
+think you could bring yourself to make a concession?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+What do you mean by a "concession"?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Well, for instance, when they were all assembled in the temple, and
+had sung a hymn, and the priest had gone up to the altar, could you
+not suddenly make an appearance, voluminous and splendid, and smile
+upon them? Could you not shower a few champak-blossoms over the
+congregation?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+It is very ingenious of you to think of these things. But I suppose
+it would not be right to attempt to do it. In the first place it
+would encourage them to believe in my immortality----
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Oh! but to _believe_ is such a salutary discipline to the lower
+classes. That is the whole principle of religion, surely,
+Aphrodite? It is not for people like ourselves. You know how
+indolent Dionysus is, but he always attended the temple when he
+was hunting upon Nysa.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There is a great deal in that argument, no doubt. Only, what will
+be the result when they discover that it is all a mistake, and
+that I am a mortal like themselves?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+You never can be a mortal like the barbarians, for you have been a
+force ruling the sea, and the flowers, and the winds, and twisting
+the blood of man and woman in your fingers like a living skein of
+soft red silk. They will always worship you. It may not be in
+temples any longer, not with a studied liturgy, but wherever the
+sap rises in a flower, or the joy of life swims up in the morning
+through the broken film of dreams, or a young man perceives for
+the first time that the girl he meets is comely, you will be
+worshipped, Aphrodite, for the essence of your immortality is the
+cumulative glow of its recurrent mortality.
+
+HERMES [_entering abruptly_].
+
+You will be disappointed----
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Ah! you followed the youths and maidens to the little temple of
+our friend. Is it not beautiful?
+
+HERMES.
+
+It is hideous.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Are you sure that it is a temple at all?
+
+HERMES.
+
+I confess that I was for a long time uncertain, but on the whole
+I believe that it is.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+But is it dedicated to me?
+
+HERMES.
+
+That is the disappointment.... It is best to tell you at once
+that I see no evidence whatever that it is.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I am very much disappointed.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I am very much relieved. But could you not gather from the
+decoration of the interior to whom of us it is inscribed?
+
+HERMES.
+
+It is not decorated at all: whitewashed walls, wooden benches,
+naked floors.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+But what is the nature of the sculpture?
+
+HERMES.
+
+I could see no sculpture, except a sort of black tablet, with
+names upon it, and at the sides two of the youthful attendants of
+Eros--those that have wings, indeed, but cannot rest. These were
+exceedingly ill-carven in a kind of limestone. And I hardly like
+to tell you what I found behind the altar----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I am not easily shocked. My poor worshippers sometimes demand a
+very considerable indulgence.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Nothing very ugly, I hope?
+
+HERMES.
+
+Yes; very ugly, and still more incomprehensible. But nothing that
+could spring out of any misconception of the ritual of our friend.
+No; I hardly like to tell you. Well, a gaunt painted figure, with
+spines about the bleeding forehead----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Was it fastened to any symbol? Did you notice anything that
+explained the horror of it?
+
+HERMES.
+
+No. I did not observe it very closely. As I was glancing at it,
+the celebration or ritual, or whatever we are to call it, began,
+and I withdrew to the door, not knowing what frenzy might seize
+upon the worshippers.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There was a cannibal altar in Arcadia to Phoebus, so I have
+heard. He instantly destroyed it, and scattered the ignorant
+savages who had raised it.
+
+HERMES.
+
+There was a touch of desolate majesty about this figure. I fear
+that it portrays some blighting Power of suffering or of grief.
+[_He shudders._]
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There are certainly deities of whom we knew nothing in Olympus.
+Perhaps this is the temple of some Unknown God.
+
+HERMES.
+
+I admit that I thought, with this picture, and with their sinister
+garments of black and of blue, and with the bareness and harshness
+of the temple, that something might be combined which it would
+give me no satisfaction to witness. I placed myself near the door,
+where, in a moment, I could have regained the exquisite forest, and
+the odour of this carpet of woodruff, and your enchanting society.
+But nothing occurred to disconcert me. After genuflexions and
+liftings of the voice----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+What was the object of these?
+
+HERMES.
+
+I absolutely failed to determine. Well, the priest--if I can so
+describe a man without apparent dedication, robed without charm,
+and exalted by no visible act of sacrifice--ascended a species of
+open box, and spoke to the audience from the upturned lid of it.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+What did he say? Did he explain the religion of his people?
+
+HERMES.
+
+To tell you the truth, Circe, although I listened with what
+attention I could, and although the actual language was perfectly
+clear to me--you know I am rather an accomplished linguist--I
+formed no idea of what he said. I could not find the starting-point
+of his experience.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+To whom can this temple be possibly dedicated?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Depend upon it, it is not a temple at all. What Hermes was present
+at was unquestionably some gathering of local politicians. Poor
+these barbarians may be, but they could not excuse by poverty such
+a neglect of the decencies as he describes. No flowers, no bright
+robes, no music of stringed instruments, no sacrifice--it is quite
+impossible that the meanest of sentient beings should worship in
+such a manner. And as for the picture which you saw behind what you
+took to be the altar, I question not that it is used to keep in
+memory some ancestor who suffered from the tyranny of his masters.
+In the belief that he was assisting at a process of rustic worship,
+our poor Hermes has doubtless attended a revolutionary meeting.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Dreadful! But may its conflicts long keep outside the arcades of
+this delightful woodland!
+
+HERMES.
+
+And still we know not to which of us the mild barbarians pray!
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+    [_The same scene, but no one present. A butterfly flits across
+        from the left, makes several pirouettes and exit to the
+        right._ HERA _enters quickly from the left_.]
+
+HERA.
+
+Could I be mistaken? What is this overpowering perfume? Is it
+conceivable that in this new world odours take corporeal shape?
+Anything is conceivable, except that I was mistaken in thinking
+that I saw it fly across this meadow. It can only have been
+beckoning me. [_The butterfly re-enters from the right, and, after
+towering upwards, and wheeling in every direction, settles on a
+cluster of meadow-sweet. It is followed from the right by_ EROS.
+_He and_ HERA _look at one another in silence_.]
+
+HERA.
+
+You are occupied, Eros. I will not detain you.
+
+EROS.
+
+I propose to stay here for a little while. Are you moving on?
+[_Each of them fixes eyes on the insect._]
+
+HERA.
+
+I must beg you to leave me, or to remain perfectly motionless. I
+am excessively agitated.
+
+EROS.
+
+I followed the being which is hanging downwards from that spray
+of blossom. Does it recall some one to you?
+
+HERA.
+
+Not in its present position. But I will not pretend, Eros, that
+it is not the source of my agitation. Look at it now, as it flings
+itself round the stalk, and opens and waves its fans. Do you still
+not comprehend?
+
+EROS.
+
+I see nothing in it now. I am disappointed.
+
+HERA.
+
+But those great coloured eyes, waxing and waning! Those moons of
+pearl! The copper that turns to crimson, the turquoise that turns
+to violet, the greenish, pointed head that swings and rolls its
+yoke of slender plumage! Ah! Eros, is it possible that you do not
+perceive that it is a symbol of my peacock, my bird translated
+into the language of this narrow and suppressed existence of ours?
+What a strange and exquisite messenger! My poor peacock, with a
+strident shriek of terror, fled from me on that awful morning, the
+flames singeing its dishevelled train, its wings helplessly
+flapping in the torrents of conflagration. It bade me no adieu, its
+clangour of despair rang forth, an additional note of discord, from
+the inner courts of my palace. And out of its agony, of its horror,
+it has contrived to send me this adorable renovation of itself, all
+its grace and all its splendour reincarnated in this tiny creature.
+But alas! how am I to capture, how to communicate with it?
+
+EROS.
+
+I hesitate to disturb your illusion, Hera. But you are singularly
+mistaken. I have a far greater interest in this messenger than you
+can have; and if you dream its presence to be a tribute to your
+pride, I am much more tenderly certain that it is a reproach to my
+affections. See, those needlessly gaudy wings,--a mere disguise to
+bring it through the multitude of its enemies--are closed now, and
+it resumes its pendulous attitude, as aërial as an evening cloud,
+as graceful as sorrow itself, sable as the shadow of a leaf in the
+moonlight.
+
+HERA.
+
+Whom do you suppose it to represent, Eros?
+
+EROS.
+
+"Represent" is an inadequate word. I know it to be, in some
+transubstantiation, the exact nature of which I shall have to
+investigate, my adored and injured Psyche. You never appreciated
+her, Hera.
+
+HERA.
+
+It was necessary in such a society as ours to preserve the
+hierarchical distinctions. She was a charming little creature, and
+I never allowed myself to indulge in the violent prejudice of your
+mother. When you presented her at last, I do not think that you
+had any reason to reproach me with want of civility.
+
+    [_The butterfly dances off._]
+
+HERA _and_ EROS _together_.
+
+It is gone.
+
+        [_A pause._]
+
+HERA.
+
+We are in a curious dilemma. Unless we are to conceive that two
+of the lesser Olympians have been able to combine in adopting a
+symbolic disguise, either you or I have been deceived. That
+tantalising visitant can scarcely have been at the same time Psyche
+and my peacock.
+
+EROS.
+
+I know not why; and for my part am perfectly willing to recognise
+its spots and moons to your satisfaction, if you will permit me to
+recognise my own favourite in the garb of grief.
+
+HERA.
+
+My bird was ever a masquerader--it may be so.
+
+EROS.
+
+Psyche, also, was not unaccustomed to disguises.
+
+HERA.
+
+You take the recollection coolly, Eros.
+
+EROS.
+
+Would you have me shriek and moan? Would you have me throw myself
+in convulsive ecstasy upon that ambiguous insect? You are not the
+first, Hera, who has gravely misunderstood my character. I am
+not, I have never been, a victim of the impulsive passions. The
+only serious misunderstandings which I have ever had with my
+illustrious mother have resulted from her lack of comprehension
+of this fact. _She_ is impulsive, if you will! Her existence has
+been a succession of centrifugal adventures, in which her sole
+idea has been to hurl herself outward from the solitude of her
+individuality. I, on the other hand, leave very rarely, and with
+peculiar reluctance, the rock-crystal tower from which I watch
+the world, myself unavoidable and unattainable. My arrows
+penetrate every disguise, every species of physical and spiritual
+armour, but they are not turned against my own heart. I have
+always been graceful and inconspicuous in my attitudes. The image
+of Eros, with contorted shoulders and projected elbows, aiming a
+shaft at himself, is one which the Muse of Sculpture would
+shudder to contemplate.
+
+HERA.
+
+Then what was the meaning of your apparent infatuation for Psyche?
+
+EROS.
+
+O do not call it "apparent." It was genuine and it was
+all-absorbing. But it was absolutely exceptional. Looking back, it
+seems to me that I must have been gazing at myself in a mirror, and
+have dismissed an arrow before I realised who was the quarry. It is
+not necessary to remind you of the circumstances----
+
+HERA.
+
+You would, I suppose, describe them as exceptional?
+
+EROS.
+
+As wholly exceptional. And could I be expected to prolong an
+ardour so foreign to my nature? The victim of passion cannot be
+a contemplator at the same moment, and I may frankly admit to you,
+Hera, that during the period of my infatuation for Psyche, there
+were complaints from every province of the universe. It was said
+that unless my attention could be in a measure diverted from that
+admirable girl, there would be something like a stagnation of
+general vitality. Phoebus remarked one day, that if the ploughman
+became the plough the cessation of harvests would be inevitable.
+
+HERA.
+
+It was at that moment, I suppose, that you besought Zeus so
+passionately to confer upon Psyche the rank of a goddess?
+
+EROS.
+
+You took that, no doubt, for an evidence of my intenser
+infatuation. An error; it was a proof that the arguments of the
+family were beginning to produce their effect upon me. I perceived
+my responsibility, and I recognised that it was not the place of
+the immortal organiser of languishment to be sighing himself. To
+deify my lovely Psyche was to recognise her claim, and--and----
+
+HERA.
+
+To give you a convenient excuse for neglecting her?
+
+EROS.
+
+It is that crudity of yours, Hera, which has before now made your
+position in Olympus so untenable. You lack the art of elegant
+insinuation.
+
+HERA.
+
+Am I then to believe that you were playing a part when you seemed
+a little while ago so anxious to recognise Psyche in the drooping
+butterfly?
+
+EROS.
+
+Oh! far from it. The sentiment of recognition was wholly genuine
+and almost rapturously pleasurable. It is true that in the
+confusion of our flight I had not been able to give a thought to
+our friend, who was, unless I am much mistaken, absent from her
+palace. Nor will I be so absurd as to pretend that I have, for a
+long while past, felt at all keenly the desire for her company. She
+has very little conversation. There are certain peculiarities of
+manner, which----
+
+HERA.
+
+I know exactly what you mean. My peacock has a very peculiar voice,
+and----
+
+EROS [_impatiently_].
+
+You must permit me to protest against any comparison between Psyche
+and your worthy bird. But I was going to say that the moment I
+saw the brilliant little discrepancy which led us both to this
+spot--and to which I hesitate to give a more definite name--I
+was instantly and most pleasantly reminded of certain delightful
+episodes, of a really charming interlude, if I may so call it.
+I cannot be perfectly certain what connection our ebullient
+high-flyer has with the goddess whose adorer I was and whose
+friend I shall ever be. But the symbol--if it be no more than a
+symbol--has been sufficient to awaken in me all that was most
+enjoyable in our relations. I shall often wander in these woods,
+among the cloud-like masses of odorous blossom, in this windless
+harbour of sunlight and the murmur of leaves, in the hope of
+finding the little visitant here. She will never fail to remind me,
+but without disturbance, of all that was happiest in a series of
+relations which grew at last not so wholly felicitous as they once
+had been. One of the pleasures this condition of mortality offers
+us, I foresee, is the perpetual recollection of what was delightful
+in the one serious liaison of my life, and of nothing else.
+
+HERA.
+
+Aphrodite would charge you with cynicism, Eros.
+
+EROS.
+
+It would not be the first time that she has mistaken my philosophy
+for petulance.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+[_On the terrace beside the house are seated_ PERSEPHONE, MAIA,
+    _and_ CHLORIS. _The afternoon is rapidly waning, and lights are
+    seen to twinkle on the farther shore of the sea. As the twilight
+    deepens, from just out of sight a man's voice is heard singing
+    as follows_:]
+
+  _As I lay on the grass, with the sun in the west,
+  A woman went by me, a babe at her breast;
+      She kissed it and pressed it,
+      She cooed, she caressed it,
+  Then rocked it to sleep in her elbow-nest._
+
+  _She rocked it to rest with a sad little song,
+  How the days were grown short, and the nights grown long;
+      How love was a rover,
+      How summer was over,
+  How the winds of winter were shrill and strong._
+
+  _We must haste, she sang, while the sky is bright,
+  While the paths are plain and the town's in sight,
+      Lest the shadows that watch us
+      Should creep up and catch us,
+  For the dead walk here in the grass at night._
+
+    [_The voice withdraws farther down the woods, but from a lower
+    distance, in the clear evening, the last stanza is heard repeated.
+    The_ GODDESSES _continue silent, until the voice has died away_.]
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Rude words set to rude music; but they seem to penetrate to the
+very core of the heart.
+
+MAIA.
+
+Are you sad to-night, Chloris?
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Not sad, precisely; but anxious, feverish, a little excited.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Hark! the song begins again.
+
+    [_They listen, and from far away the words come faintly back:_
+
+_For the dead walk here in the grass at night._]
+
+MAIA.
+
+The dead! Shall we see them?
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Why not? These barbarians appear to avoid them with an invincible
+terror, but why should we do so?
+
+MAIA.
+
+I do not feel that it would be possible for the dead to "catch" me,
+since I should be instantly and keenly watching for them, and much
+more eager to secure their presence than they could be to secure
+mine.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+We do not know of what we speak, for it may very well be that the
+barbarians have some experience of these beings. Their influence
+may be not merely malign, but disgusting.
+
+MAIA.
+
+How ignorant we are!
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Surely, Persephone, you must be able to give us some idea of the
+dead. Were they not the sole occupants of your pale dominions?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+It is very absurd of me, but really I do not seem to recollect
+anything about them.
+
+MAIA.
+
+I suppose you disliked living in Hades very much?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Well, I spent six months there every year, to please my husband.
+But a great deal of my time was taken up in corresponding with my
+mother. She was always nervous if she did not hear regularly from
+me. I really feel quite ashamed of my inattention.
+
+MAIA.
+
+You don't even recall what the inhabitants of the country were
+like?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+I recollect that they seemed dreadfully wanting in vitality. They
+came in troops when I held a reception; they swept by.... I cannot
+remember what they were like----
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+It must have been dreary for you there, Persephone.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Well, we had our own interests. I believe I did my duty. It seemed
+to me that I must be there if Pluto wished it, and I was pleased
+to be with him. But--if you can understand me--there was a sort of
+a dimness over everything, and I never entered into the political
+life of the place. As to the social life, you can imagine that
+they were not people that one cared to know. At the same time,
+of course, I feel now how ridiculous it was of me to hold that
+position and not take more interest.
+
+MAIA.
+
+Demeter, of course, never encouraged you to make any observation of
+the manners and customs of Hades.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Oh, no! that was just it. She always said: "Pray don't let me hear
+the least thing about the horrid place." You remember that she very
+strongly disapproved of my going there at all----
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Yes; I remember that Arethusa, when she brought me back my
+daffodils, told me how angry Demeter was----
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+And yet she was quite nice to my husband when once Zeus had decided
+that I had better go.
+
+    [_There is a pause._ MAIA _rises and leans on the parapet, over the
+        woods, now drowned in twilight, to the sea, which still faintly
+        glitters. She turns and comes back to the other two, standing
+        above them._]
+
+MAIA.
+
+I, too, might have observed something as I went sailing over the
+purpureal ocean. But I was always talking to my sisters. The fact
+is we all of us neglected to learn anything about death.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+We thought of it as of something happening in that world of Hades
+which could never become of the slightest importance to us. Who
+could have imagined that we should have to take it into practical
+account?
+
+MAIA.
+
+Well, now we shall have to accept it, to be prepared for its
+tremendous approach.
+
+CHLORIS [_after a pause_].
+
+Perhaps this famous "death" may prove after all to be only another
+kind of life. [_Rising and approaching_ MAIA.] Don't you think this
+is indicated even by the song of these barbarians? Besides, our
+stay here must be the ante-chamber to something wholly different.
+
+MAIA.
+
+We can hardly suppose that it can lead to nothing.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+No; surely we shall put off more or less leisurely, with dignity or
+without it, the garments of our sensuous existence, and discover
+something underneath all these textures of the body?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+One of our priests in Hades, I do remember, sang that silence was
+a voice, and declared that even in the deserts of immensity the soul
+was stunned and deafened by the chorus and anti-chorus of nature.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+What did he mean? What is the soul?
+
+MAIA.
+
+I must confess that in this our humility, our corporeal
+degradation, instead of feeling crushed, I am curiously conscious
+of a wider range of sensibility. Perhaps that is the soul? Perhaps,
+in the suppression of our immortality, something metallic,
+something hermetical, has been broken down, and already we stand
+more easily exposed to the influences of the spirit?
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+In that case, to slough the sheaths of the body, one by one, ought
+to be to come nearer to the final freedom, and the last coronation
+and consecration of existence may prove to be this very "death" we
+dread so much.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+I can fancy that such conjectures as these may prove to be one of
+the chief sources of satisfaction in this new mortality of ours:
+the variegated play of light and shadow thrown upon it. Well, the
+less we know and see, the more exciting it ought to be to guess
+and to peer.
+
+MAIA.
+
+And some of us, depend upon it, will be able to persuade ourselves
+that we alone can use our eyesight in the pitch profundity of
+darkness, and these will find a peculiar pleasure in tormenting
+the others who have less confidence in their imagination.
+
+    [_They seat themselves, and are silent. Far away is once more
+        faintly heard the song, and then it dies away. A long
+        silence. Then, a confused hum of cries and voices is heard,
+        and approaches the terrace from below. The Goddesses start
+        to their feet. From the left appear_ SILVANUS, ALCYONE _and_
+        FAUNA, _bearing the body of_ CYDIPPE, _which they place very
+        carefully on the grass in front of the scene_.]
+
+CHLORIS [_in an excited whisper_].
+
+Is this our first experience of the mystery?
+
+FAUNA _and_ ALCYONE.
+
+She is dead! She is dead!
+
+MAIA.
+
+The first of the immortals to succumb to the burden of mortality!
+
+SILVANUS.
+
+Where is Æsculapius? Call him, call him!
+
+MAIA.
+
+He cannot bring back the dead.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+What has happened? Cydippe is livid, her limbs are stark, her
+eyes are wide open, and motionless, and unnaturally brilliant.
+
+SILVANUS [_to_ CHLORIS].
+
+She was gathering a little posy of your wild flowers--eyebright,
+and crane's bills and small blue pansies, when----
+
+FAUNA.
+
+There glided out of the intertwisted fibres of the blue-berries
+a serpent----
+
+ALCYONE.
+
+Grey, with black arrows down the spine, and a flat, diabolical
+head----
+
+FAUNA.
+
+And Cydippe never saw it, and stretched out her hand again,
+and--see----
+
+SILVANUS.
+
+The viper fixed his fangs here, in the blue division of the vein,
+here in her translucent wrist. See, it swells, it darkens!
+
+FAUNA.
+
+And with a scream she fell, and swooned away, and died, turning
+backwards, so that her hair caught in the springy herbage, and her
+head rolled a little in her pain, so that her hair was loosened and
+tightened, and look, there are still little tufts of blue-berry
+leaves in her hair.
+
+SILVANUS.
+
+But here comes Æsculapius.
+
+    [_They all greet_ ÆSCULAPIUS, _who enters from the left, with
+        his basket of remedies_.]
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Ah! sage master of simples, this is a problem beyond thy solution,
+a case beyond thy cure.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS [_to the goddesses_].
+
+You think that Cydippe is dead?
+
+MAIA.
+
+Unquestionably. The savage viper has slain her.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Then prepare to behold what should seem a greater miracle to you
+than to me. But, first, Silvanus, bind a strip of clothing very
+tightly round the upper part of her arm, for no more than we can
+help of those treasonable messengers must fly posting from the
+wound to Cydippe's heart.
+
+PERSEPHONE [_sententiously_].
+
+It can receive no more such messages.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+I think you are mistaken. And now, Fauna, a few drops of water
+in this cup from the trickling spring yonder. That is well. Stand
+farther away from Cydippe, all of you.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+What are those pure white needles you drop into the water? How
+quickly they dissolve. Ah! he lays the mixture to Cydippe's wound.
+She sighs; her eyelids close; her heart is beating. What is this
+magic, Æsculapius?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Do not tell your husband, Persephone, or he will complain to Zeus
+that I am depriving him of his population. But if there is magic
+in this, there is no miracle. [_To the others._] Take her softly
+into the house and lay her down. She will take a long sleep, and
+will wake at the end of it with no trace of the poison or
+recollection of her suffering.
+
+    [_They carry_ CYDIPPE _forth_. PERSEPHONE, MAIA, _and_
+        ÆSCULAPIUS _remain_.]
+
+MAIA.
+
+Then--she was not dead?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+No; it was but the poison-swoon, which precedes death, if it be
+not arrested.
+
+MAIA.
+
+How rejoiced I am!
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+One would say your joy had disappointed you.
+
+MAIA.
+
+No, indeed, for I am attached to Cydippe, but oh! Persephone, it
+is strange to be at the very threshold of the mystery----
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+And to have the opening door shut in our faces? Perhaps ... next
+time ... they may not be able to find Æsculapius.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+[_The terrace, as in the first scene_; ZEUS _enters from the house,
+    conducted by_ HEBE _and several of the lesser divinities_.]
+
+HEBE.
+
+Will your Majesty be pleased to descend to the lower boskage?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+No! Place my throne here, out of the wind, in the sun, which seems
+to have very little fire left in it, but some pleasant light still.
+The sea down there is bright again to-day; the carrying of our
+unfortunate person upon its surface was probably the source of
+immense alarm to it. It quaked and blackened continuously. Now we
+are removed, it regains something of its normal quiescence. I trust
+that the land hereabouts is dowered with a less painful
+susceptibility.
+
+GANYMEDE.
+
+A priest, sire, the only one who saved his musical instrument
+through our calamities, stands within. Is your Majesty disposed to
+be sung to?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+No, certainly not. Which is he? [_The_ PRIEST _is pointed out_.]
+What an odd-looking person! Yes, he may give me a specimen of his
+art--a short one.
+
+    [_The_ PRIEST _comes forward; he is dressed in wild Thessalian
+        raiment. He approaches with uncouth gestures, and a mixture
+        of servility and self-consciousness. On receiving a nod
+        from_ ZEUS, _he tunes his instrument and sings as follows_:]
+
+      _Wild swans winging
+        Through the blue,
+      Spiders springing
+        To a clue,
+    Till the sparkling drops renew
+      All that ever
+      Youth's endeavour
+    Had determined to undo.
+  White and blue are hoards of treasure,
+  For the panting hands of pleasure
+  To go dropping, dropping, dropping,
+        Without measure
+      Through and through._
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Very pretty, I must say. Would you repeat it again?
+
+[PRIEST _repeats it again_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+What does it ... exactly _mean_? I think it quite pretty, you
+understand.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Does your Majesty receive any impression from it?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Well, I don't know that I could precisely parse it. But it is very
+pretty. Yes, I think I gain a certain impression from it.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Do you not feel, sire, a peculiar sense of flush, of spring-tide--a
+direct juvenile ebullience?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Ah, no doubt, no doubt. And a kind of nostalgia, or harking-back to
+happier days, a sense of their rapid passage, and their
+irrecoverability. Is that right?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+It is a positive divination!
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I am conscious of the agreeable recollection of an incident----
+
+PRIEST [_with rapture_].
+
+Ah!----
+
+ZEUS.
+
+A little event?----
+
+PRIEST.
+
+You make my heart beat so high, sire, that I can hardly speak.
+Deign, sire, to recall that incident.
+
+ZEUS [_with extreme affability_].
+
+It was hardly an incident.... I merely happened, while you were
+reciting your song, to remember an occasion on which--on which
+Iris, at the rampart of our golden wall, bending back, was caught
+by the wind, and--and the contours were delicious.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Oh! the word, the word!
+
+ZEUS [_with slight hauteur_].
+
+I do not follow you. Her rainbow----
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Ah! yes, sire, the rainbow, the rainbow! O what an art of
+incontestable divination!
+
+ZEUS [_much animated_].
+
+But you did not say anything about a rainbow, nor describe one,
+nor ever mention the elements of such a bow.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Ah! no, sire. That is the art of the New Poetry. It names nothing,
+it describes nothing. All that it designs to do is to place the
+mind of the listener--of the august and perspicacious listener--in
+such an attitude as that the unnamed, the undescribed object rises
+full in vision. The poet flings forth his melody, and to the gross
+ear it seems a mere tinkle of inanity. That is simply because the
+crowd who worship at the shrine of the Sminthean Apollo have been
+accustomed by an old-fashioned and ridiculously incompetent
+priesthood to look for an instant and mechanical relation between
+sound and sense. I would not exaggerate, sire; but the kind of
+poetry lately cultivated, not only at Delphi, but in Delos also,
+is simply obsolete.
+
+ZEUS [_suspiciously_].
+
+Again I am not sure that I quite follow you.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+To your Majesty, at least, the New Poetry opens its casket as
+widely as the rose-bud does to the zephyr.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I can follow that--but it rather reminds me of the Old Poetry.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+It was intended to do so. What promptitude of mind! What divine
+penetration!
+
+ZEUS [_affably_].
+
+I have always believed that if I had enjoyed leisure from public
+life, I should have excelled in my judgment of the fine arts. [_To
+the_ PRIEST, _with gravity_.] You are a gifted young man. Be sure
+that you employ your talents with discretion. Such an intellect as
+yours carries responsibility with it. I shall be quite pleased to
+permit you to recite "The Rainbow" to me again. [_The_ PRIEST
+_prepares to recite it_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Oh, not now! Some other time! [_Graciously dismisses the_ PRIEST.]
+
+ZEUS [_after a long pause_].
+
+The attitude of my family, in these ambiguous circumstances,
+is everything that could be desired. My original feeling of
+irritability has passed away. I should have supposed it to be
+what Pallas calls "fatigue," a confusion or discord of the
+nerve-centres, which she tells me is incident to mortality.
+What Pallas can possibly know about it is more than I can guess,
+especially, as there were not infrequent occasions on Olympus
+itself on which my Supreme Godhead was disturbed by flashes of
+what I should be forced to describe as exasperation, states of
+mind in which I formed--and indeed executed--the sudden project
+of breaking something. These were, I believe, simply the result
+of an excessive sense of responsibility. I am not one of those
+who conceive that the duty of deity is to sit passive beside the
+cup of nectar. Here on this island, in the permanent absence of
+that refreshment, I reflect (I perceive that I shall have very
+frequent opportunities for reflection) that I was perhaps only
+too anxious to preserve the harmony of heaven. My sense of
+decorum--may it not have been excessive? From below, as I
+imagine, from the stations occupied--I will not say by the
+inanimate or half-animate creation, such as insects, or men, or
+minerals--but by the demi-gods, I take it that the dignity and
+orbic beauty of our court appeared sublimely immaculate. In the
+inner circle, alas! no one knows better than I do that there
+were--well, dissensions. I will go further, in candour to myself,
+and admit that these occasionally led to excesses. I cannot
+charge my recollection with my having done anything to excuse
+or encourage these. The personal conduct of the Sovereign
+was always, I cannot but believe, above reproach. But the
+eccentricities--if I may style them so--of certain of my children
+were sometimes regrettable. I wonder that they did not age me;
+they would do so immediately in my present condition. But in this
+island, where we are to swarm like animalcules in a drop of
+water, I shall be relieved of all responsibility. Where there
+is no one to notice that errors are committed, no errors _are_
+committed. As the person of most experience in the whole world,
+I do not mind stating my ripe opinion that a fault which has no
+effect upon political conditions is in no sensible degree a fault
+at all. Pallas would contend the point, I suppose, but I am at
+ease. I shall not allow the conduct of my children, except as it
+shall regard myself, to affect my good-humour in the slightest
+degree.
+
+    [PHOEBUS _enters, slowly pacing across the terrace_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Your planet seems to have recovered something of its tone,
+Phoebus.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+If, father, you regard--as you have every right to do--your
+venerable person as the centre of my interests, I rejoice to allow
+that this seems to be the case.
+
+ZEUS [_with a touch of reserve_].
+
+I meant that the sun shows a tendency to return to its forgotten
+orbit. It is quite warm here out of the wind. [_More genially._]
+But as to myself, I admit a great recovery in my spirits. I have
+given up fretting for Iris, who was certainly lost on our way here,
+and Pallas has been showing me a curious little jewel she brought
+with her, which has created in me a kind of wistful cheeriness. I
+do not remember to have experienced anything of the kind before.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+I declare I believe that you will adapt yourself as well as the
+rest of us to this anomalous existence.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+We shall see; and I shall have so much time now, that I may
+even--what I am sure ought to gratify you, Phoebus,--be able to
+give my attention to the fine arts. A fallen monarch can always
+defy adversity by forming a collection of curiosities.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+If you make the gem of which Pallas is so proud the nucleus of
+your cabinet, I feel convinced that it will give you lasting
+satisfaction. And we are so poor now that it can never be complete,
+and therefore never become tiresome. But what was it that the
+oracle of Nemea amused and puzzled us by saying, "To form a
+collection is well, yet to take a walk is better"? I will attend
+your Majesty to your apartments, and then wander in these extensive
+woods.
+
+            [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+    [_A dell below the house, with a white poplar-tree growing
+        alone. Under it_ HERACLES _sits, in an attitude of deep
+        dejection, his club fallen at his feet, a horn empty at
+        his side. To him enters_ EROS.]
+
+EROS.
+
+I have been congratulating our friends on their surpassing
+cheerfulness. Even Zeus is displaying a marvellous longanimity in
+his adverse state, and Pallas is positively frivolous. We must have
+disembarked, however, upon the island of Paradox, for everything
+goes by contraries; here I find you, Heracles, commonly so serene
+and uplifted, sunken in the pit of depression. You should squeeze
+the breath out of your melancholy, as you did out of Hera's snakes
+so long ago.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+That was a foolish tale. Do you not recollect that I am not as the
+rest of you?
+
+EROS.
+
+Come, man, brighten up! You look as sulky as you did when I broke
+your bow and arrows, and set Aphrodite laughing at you. But I have
+learned manners, and the goddesses only smile now. Cheer up! How is
+your destiny a whit different from ours?
+
+HERACLES.
+
+That rude old story about Alcmena, Eros--it is impossible that you
+can be the dupe of that? When I hunted lions on Cithaeron--that
+really _was_ a gentlemanlike sport, my friend--when I hunted lions
+I was not a god. Gods don't hunt lions, Eros; I have not gone
+a-hunting since that curious affair on Mount OEta. You remember it?
+
+EROS.
+
+I have preferred to forget it.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+Only an immortal can afford wilfully to forget, and I--well, you
+know as well as I do that I am only a mortal canonised. I never
+understood the incident, I confess. I lay down among the ferns
+to sleep, after an unusually heavy day's bag of monsters. It was
+sultry weather; I woke to an oppressive sense of singeing, I found
+myself enveloped in a blaze of leaves and brushwood.... But I bore
+you, and what does it matter now? What does anything matter?
+
+EROS.
+
+No, no; pray continue! I am excessively interested. You throw a
+light on something that has always puzzled me, something that----
+
+HERACLES.
+
+A dense black smoke blinded and numbed me. The next moment, as it
+seemed--perhaps it was the next day--I was hustled up through the
+æther to Olympus, and dumped down at the foot of Zeus' throne.
+Perhaps you remember?
+
+EROS.
+
+Yes, for I was there.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+All of you were there. And Zeus came down and took me by the
+wrist. Olympus rang with shouts and the clapping of hands. I was
+hailed with unanimity as an immortal; the ambrosia melted between
+my charred lips; I rose up amongst you all, immaculate and fresh.
+But when, or how, or wherefore I have never known. And now I shall
+never care to know.
+
+EROS.
+
+You are a strange mixture, Heracles; strangely contradictory. You
+never quailed before any scaly horror, you never spared a truculent
+robber or a noisome beast, nor avoided a laborious act----
+
+HERACLES.
+
+These might be quoted, I should have thought, as instances of my
+consistency.
+
+EROS.
+
+Yes, but then (you must really forgive me) your weakness in the
+matter of Omphale did seem, to those who knew you not, like want
+of self-respect. I have the reputation of shrinking, in the pursuit
+of pleasure, from no fantastic disguise, but I never sat spinning
+in the garments of a servant-maid. You must have looked a strange
+daughter of the plough, Heracles. I blush for you to think of it.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+It was odd, certainly. Yet if _you_ cannot comprehend it, Eros, I
+despair of explaining it to anybody. I should never do it again.
+You must admit I showed no want of firmness afterwards in dealing
+with Hebe, but then, she never interested me. Is she here? But do
+not reply, I am not anxious to learn.
+
+EROS.
+
+Your dejection passes beyond all bounds. You cannot have been
+shown the singularly cheerful little jewel which Pallas has brought
+with her? It raises every one's spirits.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+It will not raise mine; for all of you, Eros, have been immortals
+from the beginning, and your mortality is a new and pungent flavour
+on the moral palate. But the taste of it was known of old to me,
+and I am not its dupe. It simply carries me back to the ancient
+weary round of ceaseless struggle, unending battle, incessant
+renascence of the sprouting heads of Hydra; to all that from which
+the windless Olympus was a refuge. Hope is presented--to one who
+has tasted it and who knows that it is futile--without reawakening,
+under such new conditions as we have here, any zest of adventure.
+The jewel of Pandora may be exhilarating to fallen immortality;
+it has no lustre whatever for a backsliding mortal.
+
+    [_Sounds of laughter are heard, and steps ascending from the
+        shore._]
+
+EROS [_to_ HERACLES].
+
+Draw your lion's skin about you less negligently, Heracles; I hear
+visitants approaching. You are not in the woodways of OEta.
+
+    [_The_ OCEANIDES _rush in from the lower woodlands. They are
+        carrying torches, and arrive in a condition of the highest
+        exhilaration._ EROS _proceeds a step or two to meet them, with
+        a smile and a mock reverence_. HERACLES, _brooding over his
+        knees, does not even raise his eyes at their clamorous entry_.]
+
+EROS.
+
+Are you proceeding to set our Father Zeus on fire, or do you intend
+to repeat on our unwilling Heracles the rites of canonisation?
+Have a care with those absurd flambeaux; you will put all the
+underwood aflame. What are you doing with torches?
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+It was Hephæstus who gave them to us to hold. He is in a cave down
+there by the sea, making the most ingenious things in the darkness.
+He called us in to hold these lights----
+
+DORIS.
+
+And oh, Eros, we had such fun, teasing him----
+
+PITHO.
+
+He was quite angry at last----
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+And threatened to nail us to the cliff----
+
+PITHO.
+
+And off we ran, and left him in the dark.
+
+DORIS.
+
+He is coming after us. I never felt so frightened.
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+I never enjoyed myself anywhere so much.
+
+PITHO.
+
+Come away, come away! If he is going to pursue, let us give him
+a long chase, and leave him panting at last!
+
+    [_The_ OCEANIDES _escape, in a tumult of laughter, through the
+        upper woods, as_ HEPHÆSTUS, _limping heavily, and much out
+        of breath, appears from below_.]
+
+HEPHÆSTUS
+
+The rogues, the rogues!
+
+EROS.
+
+What a cataract of animal spirits! I am afraid, Hephæstus, that
+you do not escape, even here, from the echoes of the laughter of
+heaven.
+
+HERACLES [_savagely_].
+
+Follow them, and strike them down. Take my club, Hephæstus, if
+you have lost your hammer.
+
+HEPHÆSTUS.
+
+Strike them! Strike the darling rogues? I would as soon wrap your
+too-celebrated tunic about a little playful marmozet. What is the
+matter with you, Heracles?
+
+HERACLES.
+
+What change, indeed, has come over _you_, you sulky artificer?
+Time was when your pincers would have met in the flesh of maid or
+man who disturbed you in your work. Have you left your forge to
+cool for the mere pleasure of clambering after these ridiculous
+children! Go back to it, Hephæstus, go back and be ashamed.
+
+HEPHÆSTUS.
+
+You do not seem deeply engaged yourself. You look sourer and idler
+than the lion's head that dangles at your shoulder. The days are
+long here, though not too long. My handicraft will spare me for
+half an hour to sport with these exquisite and affable fragilities.
+I rather enjoy being laughed at. On Olympus I was rarely troubled
+by such teasing attentions. The little ones seem to enjoy
+themselves in their exile, and, to say true, so do I. My work
+was carried on, I admit, much more smoothly and surely than it
+can be here, and my hand, I am afraid, in crossing the sea, has
+lost much of its infallible cunning. But I enjoy the exercise,
+and I look onward to the art as I never did before, and I seem
+to have more leisure. Can you explain it, Eros?
+
+EROS.
+
+I do not attempt to do so, but I feel a similar and equally
+surprising serenity. Heracles is insensible to it, it seems, and
+he gives me a sort of reason.
+
+HEPHÆSTUS.
+
+What is it?
+
+EROS.
+
+Well ... I am not sure that.... Perhaps I ought to leave him to
+explain it.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+You would not be able to comprehend me. I am not sure that I
+myself----
+
+    [_Two of the_ OCEANIDES _re-enter, much more seriously than
+        before, and with an eager importance of gesture_.]
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+We are not playing now. We have a message from Zeus, Hephæstus. He
+says that he is waiting impatiently for the sceptre you are making
+for him.
+
+DORIS.
+
+Yes, you must hurry back to your cave. And we are longing to see
+what ornament you are putting on the sceptre. Let us come with
+you. We will hold the torches for you as steadily as if we were
+made of marble.
+
+HEPHÆSTUS.
+
+Come, then, come. Let us descend together. I hope that my science
+has not quitted me. We will see whether even on this rugged shore
+and with these uncouth instruments, I cannot prove to Zeus that I
+am still an artist. Come, I am in a hurry to begin. Give me your
+hands, Amphitrite and Doris.
+
+            [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+[_The glen, through which the stream, slightly flooded by a night's
+    rain, runs faintly turbid._ DIONYSUS, _earnestly engaged in
+    angling, does not hear the approach of_ ÆSCULAPIUS.]
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS [_in a high, voluble key_].
+
+It is not to me but to you, O ruddy son of Semele, that the crowds
+of invalids will throng, if you cultivate this piscatory art so
+eagerly, since to do nothing, serenely, in the open air, without
+becoming fatigued, is to storm the very citadel of ill-health,
+and----
+
+DIONYSUS [_testily, without turning round_].
+
+Hush! hush!... I felt a nibble.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS [_in a whisper, flinging himself upon the grass_].
+
+It was in such a secluded spot as this that Apollo heard the trout
+at Aroanius sing like thrushes.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+How these poets exaggerate! The trout sang, I suppose, like the
+missel-thrush.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+What song has the missel-thrush?
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+It does not sing at all. Nor do trout.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+You are sententious, Dionysus.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+No, but closely occupied. I am intent on the subtle movements of my
+rod, round which my thoughts and fancies wind and blossom till they
+have made a thyrsus of it. Now, however, I shall certainly catch no
+more fish, and so I may rest and talk to you. Are you searching for
+simples in this glen?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+To tell you the plain truth, I am waiting for Nike. She has given
+me an appointment here.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+I have not seen her since we arrived on this island.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+You have seen her, but you have not recognised her. She goes about
+in a perpetual incognito. Poor thing, in our flight from Olympus
+she lost all her attributes--her wings dropped off, her laurel was
+burned, she flung her armour away, and her palm-tree obstinately
+refused to up-root itself.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+No doubt at this moment it is obsequiously rustling over the odious
+usurper.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+It was always rather a poor palm-tree. What Nike misses most are
+her wings. She was excessively dejected when we first arrived, but
+Pallas very kindly allowed her to take care of the jewel for half
+an hour. Nike--if still hardly recognisable--is no longer to be
+taken for Niobe.
+
+DIONYSUS [_rising to his feet_].
+
+I shall do well, however, to go before she comes.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+By no means. I should prefer your staying. Nike will prefer it,
+too. In the old days she always liked you to be her harbinger.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+Not always; sometimes my panthers turned and bit her. But my
+panthers and my vines are gone to keep her laurels and her
+palm-tree company. I think I will not stay, Æsculapius. But what
+does Nike want with you?
+
+    [_Slowly and pensively descending from the upper woods_, NIKE
+        _enters_.]
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+I was excusing myself, Nike, to our learned friend here for not
+having paid my addresses to you earlier. You must have thought me
+negligent?
+
+NIKE.
+
+Oh! Dionysus, I assure you it is not so. Your temperament is one of
+violent extremes--you are either sparkling with miraculous rapidity
+of apprehension, or you are sunken in a heavy doze. These have
+doubtless been some of your sleepy days. And I ... oh! I am very
+deeply changed.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+No, not at all. Hardly at all. [_He scarcely glances at her, but
+turns to_ ÆSCULAPIUS.] But farewell to both of you, for I am going
+down to the sea-board to watch for dolphins. That long melancholy
+plunge of the black snout thrills me with pleasure. It always did,
+and the coast-line here curiously reminds me of Naxos. Be kind to
+Æsculapius, Nike.
+
+    [_He descends along the water-course, and exit._ NIKE _smiles
+        sadly, and half holds out her arms towards_ ÆSCULAPIUS.]
+
+NIKE.
+
+It is for you, O brother of Hermes, to be kind to _me_. How altered
+we all are! Dionysus is not himself.... As I came here, I passed
+below the little grey precipice of limestone----
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Where the marchantias grow? Yes?
+
+NIKE.
+
+And three girls in white dresses, with wreaths of flowers on their
+shoulders, were laughing and chatting there in the shade of the
+great yew-tree. Who do you suppose they were, these laughing girls
+in white?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Perhaps three of the Oceanides, bright as the pure foam of the wave?
+
+NIKE.
+
+Æsculapius, they were not girls. They were the terrible and ancient
+Eumenides, black with the curdled blood of Uranus. They were the
+inexorable Furies, who were wont to fawn about my feet, with the
+adders quivering in their tresses, tormenting me for the spoils
+of victory. What does it mean? Why are they in white? As we came
+hither in the dreadful vessel, they were huddled together at the
+prow, and their long black raiment hung overboard and touched the
+brine. They were mumbling and crooning hate-songs, and pointing
+with skinny fingers to the portents in the sky. What is it that has
+changed their mood? What is it that can have turned the robes of
+the Eumenides white, and enamelled their wrinkled flesh with youth?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Is it not because a like strange metamorphosis has invaded your own
+nature that you have come to meet me here?
+
+NIKE [_after a pause_].
+
+I am bewildered, but I am not unhappy. I come because the secrets
+of life are known to you. I come because it was you whom Zeus sent
+to watch over Cadmus and Harmonia when their dread and comfortable
+change came over them. They were weary with grief and defeat, tired
+of being for ever overwhelmed by the ever-mounting wave of mortal
+fate. I am weary----
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS [_slowly_].
+
+Of what, Nike? Be true to yourself. Of what are you weary?
+
+NIKE.
+
+I come to you that you may tell. I know no better than the snake
+knows when his skin withers and bloats. I feel distress,
+apprehension, no pain, a little fear.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+You speak of Cadmus and Harmonia; but is not your case the opposite
+of theirs? They were saved from defeat; is it not your unspoken hope
+to be saved from victory, saved from what was your essential self?
+
+NIKE.
+
+Can it be so? I find, it is true, that I look back upon my rush
+and blaze of battle with no real regret. What a vain thing it was,
+the perpetual clash and resonance of a victory that no one could
+withstand; the mockery that conquest must be to an immortal whom no
+one can ever really oppose;--no veritable difficulty to overcome,
+no genuine resistance to meet, nothing positively tussled with and
+thrown, nothing but ghostly armies shrinking and melting a little
+way in front of my advancing eagles! That can never happen again,
+and even through the pang of losing my laurel and my wings, I did
+not genuinely deplore it. Nothing but the sheer intoxication of my
+immortality had kept me at the pitch. And now that it is gone, oh
+wisest of the gods, it is for you to tell me how, in this mortal
+state, I can remain happy and yet be _me_.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+You are on the high road to happiness; you see its towers over
+the dust, for you dare to know yourself.
+
+NIKE.
+
+Myself, Æsculapius?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Yes; you have that signal, that culminating courage.
+
+NIKE.
+
+But it is because I do _not_ know my way that I come to you.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+To recognise the way is one thing, it is much; but to recognise
+yourself is infinitely more, and includes the way.
+
+NIKE.
+
+Ah! I see. I think I partly see. The element of real victory was
+absent where no defeat could be.
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS [_eagerly_].
+
+Dismal, sooty, raven-coloured robes of the Eumenides!
+
+NIKE.
+
+And it may be present even where no final conquest can ensue?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+Ah! how white they grow! How the serpents drop out of their
+tresses.
+
+NIKE.
+
+I am feeling forward with my finger-tips, like a blind woman
+searching.... And the real splendour of victory may consist in the
+helpless mortal state; may blossom there, while it only budded in
+our immortality?
+
+ÆSCULAPIUS.
+
+May consist, really, of the effort, the desire, the act of
+gathering up the will to make the plunge. This will be victory
+now, it will be the drawing of the bow-string and not the mere
+cessation of the arrow-flight.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+    [_The main terrace, soon after dawn. In the centre_ ZEUS _sits
+        alone, throned and silent. One by one the Gods come out of
+        the house, and arrange themselves in a semicircle, to the
+        left and right, each as he passes making obeisance to_ ZEUS.
+        _It is a perfectly still morning, and a dense white mist
+        hangs over the woods, completely hiding the sea and the
+        farther shore. When all are seated._]
+
+ZEUS [_in a very slow voice_].
+
+My children, since we came here I have not been visited until
+to-night by even a shadow of those forebodings which, in the form
+of divine prescience, illuminated my plans and your fortunes in
+Olympus. [_A pause, while the gods lean towards him in deepest
+attention._] But a dream came close to my pillow last night and
+whispered to me strange, disquieting words.... I have no longer the
+art of clairvoyance, but I find I am not wholly dark. Still can I
+faintly divine the forms of the future, as we may all divine the
+roll of the woods before us, and the cleft which leads down to the
+shore, although this impalpable vapour shrouds our world.... And,
+from the dream, or from my faint perceptions, I am made aware that
+another mighty change is approaching us.
+
+        [_A silence._]
+
+HERACLES.
+
+Can you indicate to us the nature of this change? [_Looking round
+the semicircle._] If it is permitted to us to do so we would
+repudiate it. [_The gods in silence signify their assent._]
+
+ZEUS [_not replying to_ HERACLES].
+
+When we fled hither from the consuming malignity of the traitor,
+it was communicated to me that this island on the very uttermost
+border of the world was left us as a home from which we should
+never be dislodged. Here we were to dwell in peace, and here ... to
+grow old, and ... die. Here, in the meantime, new interests, humble
+wishes, cheerful curiosities have already twined about us, and we
+have gazed upon Pandora's jewel, and are no more the same.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Are we to be driven hence still farther towards the confines of
+immensity, father?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I know not.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+More journeys, more weary, weary journeys?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I know but what I tell you ... that I foresee a change. [_A
+silence._] How breathless is the air. Not the outline of a leaf is
+shaken against the sky.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+But the mist grows thinner, and high up in it I see a faint
+blueness.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I do not--nothing but the bewildering woolly whiteness, that chills
+my eyeballs.... [_With a sudden vivacity._] Ah! yes ... it is the
+sea! Is Poseidon here?
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+I went down to the shore very early indeed this morning, before
+there was an atom of mist in the air. I called upon the glassy,
+oily sea, and I could not but fancy that, although there was little
+motion in the wave, it did roll faintly to my foot, and fawn at me
+in its reply. To me also, father, it seemed as though my element
+was burdened with a secret which it knew not how to convey to me.
+
+[_A silence._]
+
+APHRODITE [_aside to_ PALLAS].
+
+If we must be driven forth again, let us at least cling to such
+new gifts as we have secured here.
+
+PALLAS [_in an eager whisper_].
+
+I should like to know what you consider them to be. Do you hold
+introspection as one of them?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I certainly do. The analysis of one's own feelings, and the sense
+of watching the fluctuating symptoms of one's individuality, form
+one of the principal consolations of our mortal state.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I think I should give it another name.
+
+HERMES [_who has come up behind them, and bending forward has
+    overheard the conversation_].
+
+My name for it would be the indulgence of personal vanity.
+
+APHRODITE [_speaks louder, while the conversation becomes general,
+    except that_ ZEUS _takes no part in it_].
+
+You may call it so, if you please, but it is a source of genuine
+pleasure to us.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Ignorance is doubtless another of these consolations--ignorance
+chemically modified by a few drops of the desire for knowledge....
+[_Enthusiastically._] And all the chastened forms of recollection,
+how delightful they are, and how they add to our satisfaction here!
+
+NIKE.
+
+It would be interesting to me to understand what you mean by
+chastened forms of recollection. I don't think that is my
+experience.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I conceive memory as a pure, unbiased emotion, an image of past
+life cast upon an unflawed mirror. Why do you say "chastened"?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+That memory which is nothing but a plain reproduction on the mirror
+of the mind is a tame concern, Pallas. It transfers, without
+modification, all that is dull, and squalid, and unessential. The
+only memory which is worthy of those who have tasted immortality is
+that which has in some degree been fortified. To recollect with
+enjoyment is to select certain salient facts from an experience and
+to be oblivious of the rest; or else it is to heighten the exciting
+elements of an event out of all proportion with historic fact; or
+it even is to place what should be in the seat of what precisely
+was.... But this must be done firmly, logically, with no timidity
+in reminiscence, so that the mind shall rest in a perfectly
+artistic conviction that what it recollects is all the truth and
+nothing but the truth. This is chastened, or, if you prefer it,
+civilised memory. But Zeus is about to speak.
+
+    [_The Gods resume their seats in silence._ ZEUS _rises from his
+        throne, and the Gods perceive that the mist has now almost
+        entirely evaporated around them, and that the entire scene
+        is luminous with morning radiance. All the Gods lean forward
+        to gaze on_ ZEUS, _who gazes over and beyond them to the sea_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+The whole bay heaves in one vast wave of unbroken pearl.... And in
+the east something flashes ... something moves ... approaches.
+
+    [_All the Gods, except_ KRONOS _and_ RHEA, _rise and follow with
+        their gaze the extended hand of_ ZEUS. POSEIDON _steps forward
+        to the front of the scene and shouts_.]
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+See! Three huge white ships are coming out of the east, and the
+waves glide away at their wake in widening glassy hues. How they
+speed! How they speed, without oar or sail!
+
+KRONOS.
+
+No rest, no sleep for us. Leave us here behind you, Zeus. We never
+have any rest.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Yes; do not drag us farther in the wearisome train of your
+misfortunes.
+
+ZEUS [_benignly, turning to them._]
+
+Be not afraid, Rhea and Kronos. But we must not abandon you. For
+the old sakes' sake we will hold together to the end.
+
+ARES.
+
+Shall we not collect our forces in unison, mortal as they are,
+and die together in resisting this invasion?
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+The kind barbarians are with us. They will fight at our side.
+
+HEPHÆSTUS.
+
+Yes, let us fight and die.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+You have no forces to collect, my sons. We cannot take toll of the
+blood of the barbarians. We cannot resist, we can but submit and
+withdraw.... The ships fleet closer. They are like monstrous fishes
+of living silver. I confess this is not what I anticipated. This
+is not what my faint dream seemed to indicate. What inspires the
+implacable destroyer to pursue us, and with this imposing and
+miraculous navy, to the shore of that harmless exile in which we
+were endeavouring to forget his existence, I know not. But let us
+at least preserve that dignity which has survived our deity.
+Whatever may be now in store for us--if the worst of all things
+be now hurrying to complete our annihilation--let us meet it with
+simplicity. Let us meet it with an even mind.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Oh, see! what are those filaments of blue and violet and grassy
+green which flutter in the cordage of the three ships?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+They leap forward, though no wind is blowing.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+They are arranged in order, and they bend upwards and now outwards.
+
+HERA.
+
+The colours of them are those which adorn my bird.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Ah! wonder of wonders! These have joined one another, see, and now
+they shoot forward together in a vibrating ribband of delicious
+lustre, and now it is arched to our shore, and descends at the
+lowest of these our woodland stairs.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+A vast rainbow from the three white vessels to this island!... And
+behold, a figure steps from it. She is robed to the feet in palest
+watchet blue, and her face is like a rosy star, and she waves her
+violet wings in the incommunicable speed of her ascent. My
+children, it is Iris, our lost daughter, our ineffable messenger.
+Let us await in silence the tidings which she brings.
+
+    [ZEUS _seats himself, and the Gods take their places as before.
+        The air is now translucent, the sky cloudless, while the
+        beechwoods flash with the lustre of dew, and the sea beyond
+        the white ships is like a floor of turquoise._ IRIS _is seen
+        to rise from the shore, through the gorge in the woods. She
+        approaches, half flying, half climbing, with incredible
+        velocity. She appears, in her splendour, at the top of the
+        stairs, and looks round upon the Gods. Without exception, in
+        the magnificence of her presence they look grey and old and
+        dim. She hesitates a moment, and then kneels before the
+        throne of_ ZEUS.]
+
+IRIS.
+
+Father and lawgiver! Imperial Master of Heaven! The rebellion in
+Olympus is over. The usurper has fallen under the weight of his
+own presumption, lower than the lowest chasms of Hades, chained for
+all eternity by the fetters of his own insolence and madness. It
+is not needful for you, Zeus, to punish or to be clement. Under
+the inevitable rebound of his impious frenzy, himself has sealed
+his doom for ever and ever. It is now for the Father of Heaven, and
+these his children, to resume their immortality and to regain their
+incomparable abodes. Be it my reward for the joyous labour of
+bringing the good news, to be the first to kiss these awful and
+eternal feet.
+
+    [IRIS _flings herself before_ ZEUS _in adoration, and folds her
+        wings about her face. As she touches him, his deity blazes
+        forth from him. When_ IRIS _rises again, she glances round
+        at the Gods with gratified astonishment, for all of them
+        have become brilliant and young_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Lead the way, Iris. This is no longer a place for us. Lead on and
+we will follow. Lead on, that we may resume our immortality.
+
+    [IRIS _flies down to the sea, and_ ZEUS _descends the steps.
+        He is followed by all the other deities._]
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Were we really happy among these trees? I can scarcely credit it,
+they seem so common and so frail.
+
+NIKE.
+
+Ha, my palm and my laurel and my wings. How can I have breathed
+without them for an hour?
+
+APHRODITE [_to_ EROS].
+
+Shall we recollect this little episode when we walk up the golden
+street presently to our houses?
+
+EROS.
+
+I cannot think so, mother. That refinement of memory of which
+Phoebus was speaking will seem the most ridiculous of illusions
+there.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Yes; to cultivate illusion, to live in the past, to resuscitate
+experience, may be the amusements of mortality, but they mean
+nothing now to us. When Selene re-enters her orb, she will not
+disquiet herself about the disorders of its interregnum.
+
+PALLAS [_hastily reascending_].
+
+I have left Pandora's jewel behind me. I must fetch it.
+
+HERMES [_the last to descend_].
+
+Let me confess that I took it from you. One of the barbarians was
+weeping, and I wished, I cannot tell why, to see her smile. I gave
+your jewel to her.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+It is of no moment. It would be an inconspicuous ornament in that
+blaze of the heart's beauty to which the white ships are about to
+carry us.
+
+HERMES.
+
+Come, then, Pallas, and let us linger here no more.
+
+    [_They descend and disappear._]
+
+
+
+
+            THE END.
+
+
+
+
+Printed by
+BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
+London & Edinburgh
+
+
+
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note
+
+Variant spellings in this ebook have been retained to match the
+original document.
+
+The use of an ae-ligature in the name 'Hephæstus' has been
+regularized. The oe-ligature is represented by 'oe' in the text
+version of this ebook, and retains the oe-ligature in the HTML
+version. Ellipses have been regularized.
+
+The original text contained duplicate headers for Acts; these
+duplications have been omitted in this ebook.
+
+The following typographical corrections were made to this text:
+
+   Page 16: Added missing period (EROS.)
+
+   Page 16: Changed em-dash to long dash to match style of text
+
+   Page 16: Changed casket to caskets (all the empty caskets)
+
+   Page 28: Added missing comma (he answered, "Pray don't)
+
+  Page 101: Changed 'o' to 'of' (It is kind of)
+
+  Page 132: Added missing period (CHLORIS.)
+
+  Page 140: Changed 'o' to 'of' (degradation, instead of)
+
+
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hypolympia, by Edmund Gosse</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Hypolympia</p>
+<p>       Or, The Gods in the Island, an Ironic Fantasy</p>
+<p>Author: Edmund Gosse</p>
+<p>Release Date: March 7, 2009  [eBook #28270]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HYPOLYMPIA***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by Bryan Ness, C. St. Charleskindt,<br />
+    and the<br />
+    Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="centerblock size90">
+<span class="center"><i>VERSE BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i></span>
+<hr class="spacer" />
+ON VIOL AND FLUTE<br />
+KING ERIK<br />
+FERDAUSI IN EXILE<br />
+IN RUSSET AND SILVER
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<h1>HYPOLYMPIA
+<br />
+<span class="size40">OR</span>
+<br />
+<span class="size60">THE GODS IN THE ISLAND</span>
+<br />
+<span class="size40"><i>AN IRONIC FANTASY</i></span>
+</h1>
+
+<hr class="spacer" />
+
+<div class="center">
+<span class="size75">BY</span>
+<br />
+EDMUND GOSSE
+<hr class="bigspacer" />
+<span class="size90">LONDON</span>
+<br />
+WILLIAM HEINEMANN
+<br />
+<span class="size75">1901</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2>
+
+<p><i>The scene of this fantasy is an island, hitherto inhabited by
+Lutherans, in a remote but temperate province of Northern Europe.
+The persons are the Gods of Ancient Greece. The time is early in
+the Twentieth Century.</i></p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 1 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 2 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 3 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_I" id="Act_I"></a>I</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>A terrace high above the sea, which is seen far below, through
+vast masses of woodland. Steps lead down towards the water, from
+the centre of the scene. To the left, a large, low country-house,
+of unpretentious character, in the style of the late eighteenth
+century. Gardens belonging to the same period, and now somewhat
+neglected and overgrown, stretch on either side. The edge of the
+terrace is marked by a stone balustrade, with a stone seat running
+round it within. At the top of steps, ascending, appear</i> <span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span>
+<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Eros</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>A moment, Eros. Let us sit here. What can this flutter at my girdle
+be? I
+
+<!-- Page 4 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>
+breathe with difficulty. Oh! Eros, can this be death?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Death? Ah! no; you have roses in your cheeks, mother. Your lips are
+like blood.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>It must be weariness. Ever these new sensations, these odd,
+exciting apprehensions! This must be mortality. I never breathed
+the faster as I rose from terrace to terrace in Cythera.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yet this is like Cythera&mdash;a little like it. [<i>Looking round.</i>] It
+is not the least like it. These round billowy woods, that grey
+strip of sea far below, the long smooth land with square yellow
+fields and pointed brown fields, and the wild grey
+
+<!-- Page 5 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+sky above. No;
+it would be impossible for anything to be less like Cythera.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yet it is like it. [<i>Gazing round.</i>] How strange ... to be where
+everything is not azure and gold and white&mdash;white land, gold houses
+and blue sky and sea. What are these woods, Eros?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Are they beech-woods?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I did not think that I could ever be happy again. I am not <i>happy</i>.
+But I am not miserable. Now that my heart is quiet again, I am not
+miserable. Oh! that sick tossing on the black sea, the nausea, the
+aching, the dulness; that I, who sprang from the waves, could come to
+
+<!-- Page 6 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
+hate them so. We will never venture on the sea, again?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Then must we stay for ever here, since this is an island.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, here for ever. For ever? We have no "for ever" now, Eros.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Enter, from the house</i>, <span class="smcap">Cydippe</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is all prepared for us, Cydippe?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Cydippe.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have done my best. The barbarian people are kind and clean. They
+have blue eyes. There is one, with marigold curls and a crisp
+beard, who has brought up water and logs of wood. There are two
+maidens, with hair like a wheat-field and rough red fingers. There
+are others....
+
+<!-- Page 7 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+I know not. All seem civil and frightened. But your
+Majesty will be wretched.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>No, Cydippe, I think I shall be happy.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span> [<i>walking to the parapet, and looking down</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Our white ship still lies there, mother. Shall we start again?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>On that leaden water, with the little cruel breakers like coriander
+seeds? Never. And whither should we go, Eros? We have lost our
+golden home, our only home. We have lost the old white world of
+empire; any grey corner of the world of stillness is good enough
+for us. I will eat, and lie down, and rest without that long,
+awful heave of the intolerable ocean. Which way, Cydippe?</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 8 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Cydippe</span> <i>enter the house</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p>
+
+<p>This little milk-white flower, with the drop of wine in it.... It
+is like the grass that grows on the slopes of Parnassus. It is the
+only home-like thing here. Can that be grey wool that hangs in the
+sky, and droops like a curtain over the opposite hills? How cold
+the air is! Ah! it is raining over in the other island, and the
+brown fields grow like the yellow fields, melt into a mere white
+mist behind the slate-coloured sea. Here is one of the barbarians.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Poseidon</span> <i>slowly appears at
+the top of the steps</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah, you here alone, Eros?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 9 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span> [<i>aside</i>].</p>
+
+<p>It is Poseidon! How old and bluff he looks! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Poseidon</span>.] My
+mother is within. [<i>Smiling.</i>] She was angry with you, Poseidon,
+but her anger is fallen.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>Adversity brings us all together. It was once I who burned with
+anger against her. Why was she angry?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>The cruelty of your sea; it shook and sickened her.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>It once was her sea, too. Now it is not even mine.... Rebellion
+everywhere, everywhere the servant risen against the master,
+everywhere our spells and portents broken. I rule the sea still,
+but it is as a man holds in a wild horse with a hard rein: it obeys
+with hatred, it
+
+<!-- Page 10 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+would obey not one moment after the master's hand
+was withdrawn.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>How cold it is. But I am not disconsolate. Nor should you be,
+Poseidon, for you will have the sea to occupy your thoughts.
+Heph&aelig;stus will help you to break it in. He at least should be
+consoled, for in our fallen estate his magical ingenuity will
+employ his brain.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>We have never needed to be ingenious. It has been enough for us to
+command, to wield the elements like weapons, to say it shall be and
+to see it is.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>To see it is not, and yet to make it be, perhaps this may be a joy
+in store for us. For Heph&aelig;stus, certainly; for you, if you are
+
+<!-- Page 11 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+wise; but for me, ah! what will there be? My arrows break against
+old hearts, and now we all are old.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Pallas Athene</span> <i>comes rapidly
+down the steps from the house and
+speaks while still behind</i> <span class="smcap">Eros</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have brought with me the box which Epimetheus made for Pandora.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span> [<i>turning suddenly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Pallas! What, you have brought that ivory box with you? Why did
+you burden your hands with that?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I snatched it from the burning palace. There is something strange
+at the bottom of it&mdash;something like an opal, with a violet flame in
+it.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 12 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Alas! we have no great need of jewels here. This shining beech-leaf
+is the treasure you should wear, Pallas. See, a little bough of it,
+bent just above the white enamel of your forehead. It will be as
+green as a beryl to-day, and red like copper to-morrow, and perhaps
+you will need no third adornment.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>There is something in the carven box which the shrieking oracle
+commended to me. "Take this," it said, "take this, and it will turn
+the blackness of exile into living light."</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Poor oracle, it became mad before it became dumb.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I was the only one of us all, Eros, who anticipated
+
+<!-- Page 13 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+this change.
+High up above the glaciers of Olympus, where the warm crystal shone
+like ice, and the faint cumuli rained jasmine on us, and the blue
+light was like the cold acid of a fruit, in the midst of our
+incomparable felicity I pondered on the vicissitude of things.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>You only, I remember, ever heeded the foolish screaming oracle that
+moaned for mortals. You always had something of the mortal
+temperament, Pallas. It jarred upon my mother that you seem to
+shudder even at the voluptuous turmoil of the senses. She said you
+always looked old. You look younger now than she does, Pallas.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am neither old nor young. I know not what I am. But this grey
+colour and those
+
+<!-- Page 14 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+blowing woods are not unpleasing to me. I can be
+<i>myself</i>, even here, on a beech-wood peak in the cold sea.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Enter up the steps</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>,
+<i>leaning heavily on</i> <span class="smcap">Ganymede</span>, <i>and
+attended by many other Gods</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span>, <span class="smcap">Poseidon</span>, <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Pallas</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Hail! father and king!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I can push on no farther. Why have I brought you here? [<i>Gazing
+round.</i>] Nay, it is you who have brought me here. [<i>He moves up the
+scene.</i>] I have a demon in my legs, that swells them, breaks them,
+crushes me down. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Ganymede</span>.] You are careless; stiffen your
+shoulder, it slopes like a woman's. I have lost my thunderbolt, I
+have lost everything. Shall I be <i>bound</i> upon this muddy, slippery
+rock? What is that horror in the sky?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 15 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is some dark bird of the north; it seeks a prey in the
+woodlands.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I think it is a vulture. My eagle fled from me when the rebel
+whistled to it. It perched beside him, and smoothed its crest
+against his elbow. All have left me, even my eagle.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>Father, we have not left you. We are about you here. One by one the
+alleys of the beech-wood will open, and one after one we shall all
+gather here, all your children, all the Olympians.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>But where is Olympus? I hardly know you. [<i>Gazing blankly about
+him.</i>] Are you my children? You [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Pallas</span>] gaze
+
+<!-- Page 16 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
+at me with eyes
+like those I hated most.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Whose eyes, father and king?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I will not say. Are you sure [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Poseidon</span>] that is not a vulture?
+I am torn, see, here under my beard, by a thorn. I can feel pain at
+last, <i>I</i>, who could only inflict it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Pallas has something in a box&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>vehemently</i>].</p>
+
+<p>There is nothing in any box, there is nothing in any island, there
+is nothing in all the empty caskets of this world which can give
+me any happiness. Is it in this shanty that we must live? Lead me
+on, Ganymede,
+
+<!-- Page 17 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
+lead me on into it, that I may sink down and sleep.
+Walk slowly and walk steadily, wretched boy.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>He passes into the house, followed by all the others.</i>]</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 18 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 19 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 20 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 21 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_II" id="Act_II"></a>II</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>The terrace as before. Early morning, with warm sunshine. Enter</i>
+<span class="smcap">Circe</span>, <i>very carefully helping</i>
+<span class="smcap">Kronos</span> <i>down the steps of the
+house</i>. <span class="smcap">Rhea</span> <i>follows, leaning on a staff</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Circe</span> <i>places</i> <span class="smcap">Kronos</span>
+<i>in one throne, and sees</i> <span class="smcap">Rhea</span> <i>comfortably settled in another.
+Then she sits on the ground between them, at</i> <span class="smcap">Rhea's</span> <i>knees</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>There! We are all comfortable now. How did Kronos sleep, Rhea?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>He has not complained this morning. [<i>Raising her voice.</i>] Did you
+sleep, Kronos?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 22 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos</span> [<i>vaguely</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Yes, oh yes! I always sleep. Why should I not sleep?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>These new arrangements&mdash;I was afraid they might disturb you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Circe</span>].</p>
+
+<p>He notices very little. I do not think he recollects that there has
+been any change. Already he forgets Olympus. [<i>After a pause.</i>] It
+is very thoughtful of you, Circe, to take so much trouble about us.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have been anxious about you both. All the rest of us ought to be
+able to console ourselves, but I am afraid that you will find it
+very difficult to live in the new way.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 23 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Kronos will soon have forgotten that there was an old way; and as
+for me, Circe, I have seen so much and wandered in so many places,
+that one is as another to me.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is it Zeus who has driven us forth?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh no! Zeus has led us hither. It was he who was attacked, it was
+against him that the rage of the enemy was directed.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos</span> [<i>to himself</i>].</p>
+
+<p>He let me stay where I was. We were not driven forth before, Rhea,
+were we? When I saw that it was hopeless, I did not struggle; I
+rose and took you by the hand....</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 24 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; and we went half-way down the steps of the throne together....</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos</span> [<i>very excitedly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>And we bowed to Zeus....</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>And he walked forward as if he did not see us....</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos.</span></p>
+
+<p>And then we came down, and I [<i>all his excitement falls from him</i>]
+I cannot quite remember. Did he strike us, Rhea?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh! no, no! He swept straight on, and did not so much as seem to
+see us, and in a moment he was up in the throne, and all the gods,
+the new and the old, were bowing to him with acclamation.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 25 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe</span> [<i>looking up at</i>
+<span class="smcap">Rhea</span>, <i>with eager sympathy</i>].</p>
+
+<p>What did <i>you</i> do, you poor dears?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea</span> [<i>after a pause</i>].</p>
+
+<p>We did nothing.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos.</span></p>
+
+<p>Zeus let us stay then. Why has he driven us out now?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea</span> [<i>aside</i>].</p>
+
+<p>He does not understand, Circe. It is very sweet of you to be so
+kind to us, but you must go back now to your young companions. Who
+is here?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>I think we are all here, or nearly all. I have not seen Iris, but
+surely all the rest are here.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is Zeus very much disturbed? On the
+
+<!-- Page 26 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
+ship I heard &AElig;olus say that it
+was impossible to go near him, he was so unreasonably angry.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, he thought that our miseries were all the fault of Poseidon
+and &AElig;olus. But mortality will make a great change in Zeus; I think
+perhaps a greater change than in any of us. He has eaten a very
+substantial breakfast. &AElig;sculapius says that as Zeus has hitherto
+considered the quality of his food so much, it is probable that in
+these lower conditions it may prove to be quantity which will
+interest him most. He was greatly pleased with a curious kind of
+aromatic tube which Hermes invented for him this morning.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Does Zeus blow down it?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 27 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>No; he puts fire to one end of it, and draws in the vapour. He is
+delighted. How clever Hermes is, is he not, Rhea? What shall you do
+here?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>I must look after Kronos, of course. But he gives me no trouble.
+And I do not need to do much more. I am very tired, Circe. I was
+tired in my immortality. When Kronos and I were young, things were
+so very different in Olympus.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>How were they different? Do tell me what happened. I have always
+longed to know, but it was not considered quite nice, quite
+respectful to Zeus, for us to ask questions about the Golden Age.
+But now it cannot matter; can it, Rhea?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 28 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea</span> [<i>after a pause</i>].</p>
+
+<p>The fact is that when I look back, I cannot see very plainly any
+longer. Do you know, Circe, that after the younger Gods invaded
+Heaven, although Zeus was very good-natured to us, and let us go on
+as deities, something of our god-head passed away?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos</span> [<i>aloud, to himself</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I said to him, "If I am unwelcome, I can go." And he answered,
+"Pray don't discommode yourself." Just like that; very politely,
+"Don't discommode yourself." And now he drives us away after all.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe</span> [<i>flinging herself over to</i> <span class="smcap">Kronos'</span> <i>knees</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Oh! Kronos, he does not drive you away! It is not he. It is our new
+enemies, not of our own race, that have driven us. And we are all
+here&mdash;Pallas, Ares, Ph&oelig;bus&mdash;we are all here. You like Hermes,
+
+<!-- Page 29 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+do you not, Kronos? Well, Hermes is here, and he will amuse you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos.</span></p>
+
+<p>I thought that Zeus had forgiven us. But never mind, never mind!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>We are tired, Circe. And what does the new life matter to us now?
+The old life had run low, and we had long been prepared for
+mortality by the poverty of our immortality.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Hermes</span> <i>running</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes</span> [<i>in reply to a gesture of</i>
+<span class="smcap">Circe</span>].</p>
+
+<p>I cannot stay. I am trying to rouse Demeter from her dreadful state
+of depression. She sits in the palace heaving deep sighs, and
+doing absolutely nothing else. It will affect her heart, &AElig;sculapius
+say.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 30 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>She has always been so closely wedded to the study of agriculture,
+and now....</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>Precisely. And it has occurred to me that the way to rouse her will
+be to send Persephone to her in a little country cart I have
+discovered. I have two mouse-coloured ponies already caught and
+harnessed&mdash;such little beauties. The only thing left to do is to
+search for Persephone.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>I will find her in a moment. [<i>Exit.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>We hear that you have already invented a means of amusing Zeus,
+Hermes? Is he prepared to forget his thunderbolt?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 31 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>He has mentioned it only twice this morning, and I have set
+Heph&aelig;stus to work to make him another, of yew-tree wood. It will be
+less incommodious, more fitted to this place, and in a very short
+time Zeus will forget the original.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos</span> [<i>loudly, to himself</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Zeus gave me an orb and sceptre to console me. I used to play cup
+and ball with them behind his throne.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea</span> [<i>in a solicitous aside to</i> <span class="smcap">Hermes</span>].</p>
+
+<p>Oh! it is not true. Kronos' mind now wanders so strangely. He
+thinks that it is Zeus who has turned him out of Olympus.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes</span> [<i>in the same tone</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Do not distress him, Rhea, by contradiction and explanation. I will
+find modes
+
+<!-- Page 32 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+of amusing him a little every day, and, for the rest,
+let him doze in the sunshine. His mind is worn so smooth that it
+fails any longer to catch in ideas as they flit against it. They
+pass off, glide away. It is useless, Rhea, to torment Kronos.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>I shall watch him, all day long. For I, too, am weary. Do not
+propose to me, with your restless energy, any fresh interests. Let
+me sit, with my cold hands folded in my lap, and look at Kronos,
+nodding, nodding. It is very kind of Circe, but we are too old for
+love; and of you, but we are too old for amusement. Let us rest,
+Hermes, rest and sleep; perhaps dream a little, dream of the
+far-away past.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Circe</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Persephone</span> <i>enter from the left</i>.]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 33 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Hermes</span>].</p>
+
+<p>My mother requires so much activity of mind and body. You must not
+believe that I was neglecting her. But I went forth in despair this
+morning to see what I could invent, adapt, discover, as a means of
+rousing her. I am stupid, I could think of nothing. I wandered
+through the woods, down the glen, along the sea-shore, up the side
+of the tarn and of the marsh, but I could think of nothing.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>And when I found Persephone she was lying, flung out among the
+flowers, with bees and butterflies leaping round her in the
+sunshine, and the beech-leaves singing their faint song of peace.
+It was beautiful, it was like Enna&mdash;with, ah! such a difference.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Circe does not tell you that I was so foolish
+
+<!-- Page 34 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
+as to be in tears.
+But now it seems that you have invented an occupation for Ceres?
+You are so divinely ingenious.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>I hope it may be successful.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Tell me what it is.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have found at the back of the palace a small rural waggon, and I
+have caught two ponies, with coats like grey velvet, and great
+antelopes' eyes&mdash;dear little creatures. I have harnessed them, and
+now I want you to sit in this cart, while I am dressed like some
+herdsman of these barbarians, and lead the ponies, and we will go
+together to coax Demeter out into the fields.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 35 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh! Hermes, how splendid of you. Let us fly to carry out your plan.
+Circe, will you not come with us?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Or shall I not rather go to prepare the mind of Demeter for an
+agreeable surprise? Shall you be happy by yourselves, Kronos and
+Rhea?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Quite happy, for we desire to sleep.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Circe</span> <i>to right</i>,
+<span class="smcap">Hermes</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Persephone</span>
+<i>to left</i>.]</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 36 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 37 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 38 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 39 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_III" id="Act_III"></a>III</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>A ring of turf, in a hollow of the slope, surrounded by
+beech-trees, except on one side, where a marsh descends to a small
+tarn. Over the latter is rising the harvest moon.</i> <span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus Apollo</span>
+<i>alone; he watches the luminary for a long time in silence</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<div>
+<span class="verse">Selene! sister!&mdash;since that tawny shell,</span>
+<span class="verse">Stained by thy tears and hollowed by thy sighs,</span>
+<span class="verse">Recalls thee still to mind&mdash;dost thou regard,</span>
+<span class="verse">From some tumultuous covert of this woodland,</span>
+<span class="verse">Thy whilom sphere and palace? Nun of the skies,</span>
+
+<!-- Page 40 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+<span class="verse">In coy virginity of pulse, thy hands</span>
+<span class="verse">Repelled me when I sought to win thy lair,</span>
+<span class="verse">Fraternal, with no thoughts but humorous ones;</span>
+<span class="verse">And in thy chill revulsion, through thy skies,</span>
+<span class="verse">At my advance thy crystal home would fade,</span>
+<span class="verse">A ghost, a shadow, a film, a papery dream.</span>
+<span class="verse">Thou and thy moon were one. What is it now,</span>
+<span class="verse">Thy phantom paradise of gorgeous pearl,</span>
+<span class="verse">With sibilant streams and palmy tier on tier</span>
+<span class="verse">Of wind-bewhitened foliage? Still it floats,</span>
+<span class="verse">As when thy congregated harps and viols</span>
+<span class="verse">Beat slow harmonious progress, light on light,</span>
+<span class="verse">Across our stainless canopy of heaven.</span>
+
+<!-- Page 41 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+<span class="verse">Ah! but how changed, Selene! If thy form</span>
+<span class="verse">Crouches among these harsher herbs, O turn</span>
+<span class="verse">Thy withering face away, and press thine eyes</span>
+<span class="verse">To darkness in the strings of dusty heather,</span>
+<span class="verse">Since that loose globe of orange pallor totters,</span>
+<span class="verse">Racked with the fires of anarchy, and sheds</span>
+<span class="verse">The embers of thy glory; and the cradles</span>
+<span class="verse">Of thy imperial maidenhood are foul</span>
+<span class="verse">With sulphur and the craterous ash of hell.</span>
+<span class="verse">O gaze not, sister, on the loathsome wreck</span>
+<span class="verse">Of what was once thy moon. Yet, if thou must</span>
+<span class="verse">With tear-fed eyes visit thine ancient realm,</span>
+
+<!-- Page 42 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+<span class="verse">Bend down until the fringe of thy faint lids</span>
+<span class="verse">Hides all save what is in this tarn reflected&mdash;</span>
+<span class="verse">Cold, pallid, swimming in the lustrous pool,</span>
+<span class="verse">There only worthy of thy clear regard,</span>
+<span class="verse">A vision purified in woe.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The reeds in the tarn are stirred, and there is audible a faint
+shriek and a ripple of laughter. A shrouded figure rises from the
+marsh, and, hastening by</i> <span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> <i>through the darkness, is lost
+in the woods. It is followed closely by</i> <span class="smcap">Pan</span>, <i>who, observing</i>
+<span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span>, <i>pauses in embarrassment</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I thought I was alone.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>And so did we, sire.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 43 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Am I to congratulate you on your distractions?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have a natural inclination to marshy places.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>This is a ghastly night, Pan.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>I had not observed it, sire. Yes, doubtless a ghastly night. But I
+was occupied, and I am no naturalist. This glen curiously reminded
+me of rushy Ladon. I am a great student of reeds, and I was
+agreeably surprised to find some very striking specimens
+here&mdash;worthy of the Arcadian watercourses, as I am a deity. I
+should say, <i>was</i> a deity.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 44 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>They will help, perhaps, to reconcile you to mortality. You can add
+them to your collection.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>That, sire, is my hope. The stems are particularly full and smooth,
+and the heads of the best of them rustle back with a profusion of
+flaxen flowerage, remarkably agreeable to the touch. I broke one as
+your Highness approached. But the wind, or some goblin, bore it
+from me. This curious place seems full of earth-spirits.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>You must study them, too, Pan. That will supply you with another
+object.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>But the marsh water has a property unknown to the Olympian springs.
+I suspect
+
+<!-- Page 45 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+it of being poisoned. After standing long in it, I found
+myself troubled with aching in the shank, from knee to hoof. If
+this is repeated, my studies of reed-life will be made dolorously
+difficult.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>It must now be part of your pleasure to husband your enjoyments.
+You have always rolled in the twinkle of the vine-leaves, hot
+enough and not too hot, with grapes&mdash;immense musky clusters&mdash;just
+within your reach. If you think of it philosophically&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>How, sire?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Philosophically.... Well, if you think of it sensibly, you will
+see that there was a certain dreariness in this uniformity of
+satisfaction.
+
+<!-- Page 46 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+Rather amusing, surely, to find the cluster
+occasionally spring up out of reach, to find the polished waist of
+the reed slip from your hands? Occasionally, of course; just enough
+to give a zest to pursuit.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! there was pursuit in Ladon, but it was pursuit which always
+closed easily in capture. What I am afraid of is that here capture
+may prove the exception. Your Highness ... but a slight family
+connection and our adversities are making me strangely familiar....</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Speak on, my good Pan.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>Your Highness was once something of a botanist?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 47 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>A botanist? Ah, scarcely! A little arboriculture, the laurel; a
+little horticulture, the sun-flower. Those varieties seem entirely
+absent here, and I have no thought of replacing them.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>The last thing I should dream of suggesting would be a <i>hortus
+siccus</i>....</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>And I was never a consistent collector. There are reeds everywhere,
+you fortunate goat-foot, but even in Olympus I was the creature of
+a fastidious selection.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pan.</span></p>
+
+<p>The current of the thick and punctual blood never left me liable
+to the distractions of choice.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 48 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I congratulate you, Pan, upon your temperament, and I recommend to
+you a further pursuit of the attainable.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Pan</span>
+<i>makes a profound obeisance and disappears in the woodland</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> <i>watches him depart,
+and then turns to the moon</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p>
+
+<p>His familiarity was not distasteful to me. It reminded me of days
+out hunting, when I have come suddenly upon him at the edge of the
+watercourse, and have shared his melons and his conversation. I
+anticipate for him some not unagreeable experiences. The lower
+order of divinities will probably adapt themselves with ease to our
+new conditions. They despaired the most suddenly, with wringing of
+hands as we raced to the sea, with interminable babblings and low
+moans and screams, as they clustered on the deck of that
+
+<!-- Page 49 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
+extraordinary vessel. But the science of our new life must be to
+forget or to remember. We must live in the past or forego the past.
+For Pan and his likes I conceive that it will largely resolve
+itself into a question of temperature&mdash;of temperature and of
+appetite. That orb is of a sinister appearance, but to do it
+justice it looks heated. My sister had a passion for coldness; she
+would never permit me to lend her any of my warmth. I cannot say
+that it is chilly here to-night. I am agreeably surprised.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The veiled figure flits across again, and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Pan</span> <i>once more crosses
+in close pursuit</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> [<i>as they vanish</i>].</p>
+
+<p>What an amiable vivacity! Yes; the lower order of divinities will
+be happy, for they will forget. We, on the contrary, have the
+privilege of remembering. It is only the mediocre spirits, that
+cannot quite
+
+<!-- Page 50 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
+forget nor clearly remember, which will have neither
+the support of instinct nor the solace of a vivid recollection.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>He seats himself. A noise of laughter rises from
+he marsh, and dies away. In the silence a bird sings.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Not the Daulian nightingale, of course, but quite a personable
+substitute: less prolongation of the triumph, less insistence upon
+the agony. How curiously the note breaks off! Some pleasant little
+northern bird, no doubt. I experience a strange and quite
+unprecedented appetite for moderation. The absence of the thrill,
+the shaft, the torrent is not disagreeable. The actual Phocian
+frenzy would be disturbing here, out of place, out of time. I must
+congratulate this little, doubtless brown, bird on a very
+considerable skill in warbling. But the moon&mdash;what
+
+<!-- Page 51 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
+is happening to
+<i>it</i>? It is not merely climbing higher, but it is manifestly
+clarifying its light. When I came, it was copper-coloured, now it
+is honey-coloured, the horn of it is almost white like milk. This
+little bird's incantation has, without question, produced this
+fortunate effect. This little bird, halfway on the road between the
+nightingale and the cicada, is doubtless an enchanter, and one
+whose art possesses a more than respectable property. My sister's
+attention should be drawn to this highly interesting circumstance.
+Selene! Selene!</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>He calls and waits. From the upper woods</i>
+<span class="smcap">Selene</span> <i>slowly
+descends, wrapped in long white garments</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Sister, behold the throne that once was thine.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 52 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>And now, a rocking cinder, fouls the skies.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>A magian sweeps its filthy ash away.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>There is no magic in the bankrupt world.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Nay, did'st thou hear this twittering peal of song?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>Some noise I heard; this glen is full of sounds.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Fling back thy veil, and staunch thy tears, and gaze.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 53 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>At thee, my brother, not at my darkened orb.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Gaze then at me. What seest thou in mine eyes?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>Foul ruddy gleams from what was lately pure.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Nay, but thou gazest not. Look up, look at me!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>But on thy sacred eyeballs fume turns fire.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Nay, then, turn once and see thy very moon.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 54 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene</span> [<i>turning round</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Ah! wonder! the volcanic glare is gone.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>The wizard bird has sung the fumes away.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>Empty it seems, and vain; but foul no more.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> [<i>approaching her, and in a confidential tone</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I will not disguise from you, Selene, my apprehension that the
+hideous colour may return. Your moon is divorced from yourself, and
+can but be desecrated and forlorn. But at least it should be a
+matter of interest to you&mdash;yes, even of gratification, my
+sister&mdash;that this little bird, if it be a bird, has an enchanting
+power
+
+<!-- Page 55 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>
+of temporarily relieving it and raising it.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Selene</span>,
+<i>manifestly more cheerful, ascends to the wood on the
+left</i>. <span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span>, <i>turning again to the moon</i>,]</p>
+
+<p>I have observed that this species of mysterious agency has a very
+salutary effect upon the more melancholy of our female divinities.
+They are satisfied if they have the felicity of waiting for
+something which they cannot be certain of realising, and which they
+attribute to a cause impossible to investigate. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Selene</span>,
+<i>raising his voice</i>.] Whither do you go, my sister?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Selene.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am searching for this little bird. I propose to discuss with it
+the nature of its extraordinary, and I am ready to admit its
+gratifying, control over the moon. I think it possible that I may
+concoct
+
+<!-- Page 56 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+with it some scheme for our return. You shall, in that
+case, Ph&oelig;bus, be no longer excluded from my domain.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Let me urge you to do no such thing. The action of this little bird
+upon your unfortunate luminary is sympathetic, but surely very
+obscure. It would be a pity to inquire into it so closely as to
+comprehend it.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Selene</span>,
+<i>without listening to him, passes up into the woods, and exit</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> [<i>alone</i>].</p>
+
+<p>To comprehend it might even be to discover that it does not exist.
+Whereas to come here night after night, in the fragrant darkness,
+to see the unhallowed lump of fire creep out of the lake, to
+listen for the first clucks and shakes of the sweet little
+purifying song, and to watch the
+
+<!-- Page 57 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+orb growing steadily more hyaline
+and lucent under its sway, how delicious! The absolute harmony and
+concord of nature would be then patent and recurrent before us. My
+poor sister! However, it is consoling to reflect that she is
+almost certain not to be able to find that bird.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 58 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 59 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 60 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 61 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_IV" id="Act_IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>The same glen.</i> <span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>
+<i>alone, busily arranging a great
+cluster of herbs which he has collected. He sits on a large stone,
+with his treasures around him</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yew&mdash;an excellent styptic. Tansy, rosemary. Spurge and marsh
+mallow. The best pellitory I ever plucked out of a wall. The herbs
+of this glen are admirable. They surpass those of the gorges of
+Cyllene. Is this lavender? The scent seems more acrid.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Pallas</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Euterpe</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>You look enviably animated, &AElig;sculapius. Your countenance is so
+fresh beneath that
+
+<!-- Page 62 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+long white beard of yours, that the barbarians
+will suppose you to be some mad boy, masquerading.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Euterpe.</span></p>
+
+<p>What will you do with these plants?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>These are my simples. As we shot through the Iberian narrows on our
+frantic voyage hither, my entire store was blown out of my hands
+and away to sea. The rarest sorts were flung about on rocks where
+nothing more valetudinarian than a baboon could possibly taste
+them. My earliest care on arriving here was to search these woods
+for fresh specimens, and my success has been beyond all hope. See,
+this comes from the wet lands on the hither side of the tarn&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Euterpe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Where Selene is now searching for the wizard
+
+<!-- Page 63 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
+who draws the smoke
+away from the moon's face at night.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>This from the beck where it rushes down between the stems of
+mountain-ash, this from beneath the vast ancestral elm below the
+palace, this from the sea-shore. Marvellous! And I am eager to
+descend again; I have not explored the cliff which breaks the
+descent of the torrent, nor the thicket in the gully. There must be
+marchantia under the spray of the one, and possibly dittany in the
+peat of the other.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>We must not detain you, &AElig;sculapius. But tell us how you propose to
+adapt yourself to our new life. It seems to me that you are
+determined not to find it irksome.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 64 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Does it not occur to you, Pallas, that&mdash;although I should never
+have had the courage to adopt it&mdash;thus forced upon us it offers me
+the most dazzling anticipations? Hitherto my existence has been all
+theory. What there is to know about the principles of health as
+applied to the fluctuations of mortality, I may suppose is known to
+me. You might be troubled, Pallas, with every conceivable malady,
+from elephantiasis to earache, and I should be in a position to
+analyse and to deal with each in turn. You might be obscured by
+ophthalmia, crippled by gout or consumed to a spectre by phthisis,
+and I should be able, without haste, without anxiety, to unravel
+the coil, to reduce the nodosities, to make the fleshy instrument
+respond in melody to all your needs.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>But you have never done this. We knew
+
+<!-- Page 65 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+that you <i>could</i> do it, and that has been enough for us.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>It has never been enough for me. The impenetrable immortality of
+all our bodies has been a constant source of exasperation to me.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is it not much to know?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; but it is more to <i>do</i>. The most perfect theory carries a
+monotony and an emptiness about with it, if it is never renovated
+by practice. In Olympus the unbroken health of all the inmates,
+which we have accepted as a matter of course, has been more
+advantageous to them than it has been to me.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 66 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I quite see that it has made your position a more academic one than
+you could wish.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>It has made it purely academic, and indeed, Pallas, if you will
+reflect upon it, the very existence of a physician in a social
+system which is eternally protected against every species of bodily
+disturbance borders upon the ridiculous.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>It would interest me to know whether in our old home you were
+conscious of this incongruity, of this lack of harmony between your
+science and your occasions of using it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>No; I think not. I was satisfied in the possession of exact
+knowledge, and not directly
+
+<!-- Page 67 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+aware of the charm of application. It
+is the result, no doubt, of this resignation of immortality which
+has startled and alarmed us all so much&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>Me, &AElig;sculapius, it has neither alarmed nor startled.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>I mean that while we were beyond the dread of any attack, the
+pleasure of rebutting such attack was unknown to us. I have
+divined, since our misfortunes, that disease itself may bring an
+excitement with it not all unallied to pleasure.... You smile,
+Euterpe, but I mean even for the sufferer. There is more in disease
+than the mere pang and languishment. There is the sense of
+alleviation, the cessation of the throb, the resuming glitter in
+the eye, the restoration of cheerfulness and appetite. These,
+
+<!-- Page 68 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+Pallas, are qualities which are indissolubly identified with pain
+and decay, and which therefore&mdash;if we rightly consider&mdash;were wholly
+excluded from our experience. In Olympus we never brightened, for
+we never flagged; we never waited for a pang to subside, nor felt
+it throbbing less and less poignantly, nor, as if we were watching
+an enemy from a distance, hugged ourselves in a breathless ecstasy
+as it faded altogether; this exquisite experience was unknown to
+us, for we never endured the pang.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Euterpe.</span></p>
+
+<p>You make me eager for an illness. What shall it be? Prescribe one
+for me. I am ignorant even of the names of the principal maladies.
+Let it be a not unbecoming one.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! no, Euterpe. Your mind still runs
+
+<!-- Page 69 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
+in the channel of your lost
+impermeability. Till now, you might fling yourself from the crags
+of Tartarus, or float, like a trail of water-plants, on the long,
+blown flood of the altar-flame, and yet take no hurt, being
+imperishable. But now, part of your hourly occupation, part of your
+faith, your hope, your duty, must be to preserve your body against
+the inroads of decay.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Euterpe.</span></p>
+
+<p>You present us with a tedious conception of our new existence,
+surely.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Why should it be tedious? There was tedium, rather, in the
+possession of bodies as durable as metal, as renewable as wax, as
+insensitive as water. In the fiercest onset of the passions,
+prolonged to satiety, there was always an element of
+
+<!-- Page 70 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>
+the unreal.
+What is pleasure, if the strain of it is followed by no fatigue;
+what the delicacy of taste, if we can eat like caverns and drink
+like conduits without being vexed by the slightest inconvenience?
+You will discover that one of the acutest enjoyments of the mortal
+state will be found to consist in guarding against suffering. If
+you are provided with balloons attached to all your members, you
+float upon the sea with indifference. It is the certainty that you
+will drown if you do not swim which gives zest to the exercise. I
+climb along yonder jutting cornice of the cliff with eagerness, and
+pluck my simples with a hand that trembles more from joy than fear,
+precisely because the strain of balancing the nerves, and the
+certainty of suffering as the result of carelessness, knit my
+sensations together into an exaltation which is not exactly
+pleasure, perhaps, but which is not to be distinguished
+
+<!-- Page 71 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
+from it in its exciting properties.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is life, then, to resolve itself for us into a chain of
+exhilarating pangs?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Life will now be for you, for all of us, a perpetual combat with a
+brine that half supports, half drags us under; a continual creeping
+and balancing on a chamois path around the forehead of a precipice.
+A headache will be the breaking of a twig, a fever a stone that
+gives way beneath your foot, to lose the use of an organ will be to
+let the alpenstock slip out of your starting fingers. And the
+excitement, and be sure the happiness, of existence will be to
+protract the struggle as long as possible, to push as far as you
+can along the dwindling path, to keep the supports and the
+alleviations of your labour
+
+<!-- Page 72 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>
+about you as skilfully as you can, and
+in the fuss and business of the little momentary episodes of
+climbing to forget as long and as fully as may be the final and
+absolutely unavoidable plunge. [<i>A pause, during which</i> <span class="smcap">Euterpe</span>
+<i>sinks upon the green sward</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have unfolded before you a scheme of philosophical activity. Are
+you not gratified?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>Euterpe will learn to be gratified, &AElig;sculapius, but she had not
+reflected upon the plunge. If she will take my counsel, she will
+continue to avoid doing so. [<span class="smcap">Euterpe</span> <i>rises, and approaches</i>
+<span class="smcap">Pallas</span>, <i>who continues, to</i>
+<span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>.] I am with you in
+recommending to her a constant consideration of the momentary
+episodes of
+
+<!-- Page 73 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+health. And now let us detain you no longer from the
+marchanteas.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Euterpe.</span></p>
+
+<p>But pray recollect that they grow where the rocks are both slippery
+and shelving.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Euterpe</span> <i>sinks again upon the grass, with her
+face in her hands, and lies there motionless</i>. <span class="smcap">Pallas</span>
+<i>walks up and down, in growing emotion, and at length breaks forth in
+soliloquy</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span class="verse">Higher than this dull circle of the sense&mdash;</span>
+<span class="verse">Shrewd though its pulsing sharp reminders be,</span>
+<span class="verse">With ceaseless fairy blows that ring and wake</span>
+<span class="verse">The anvil of the brain&mdash;I rather choose</span>
+<span class="verse">To lift mine eyes and pierce</span>
+
+<!-- Page 74 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+<span class="verse">The long transparent bar that floats above,</span>
+<span class="verse">And hides, or feigns to hide, the choiring stars,</span>
+<span class="verse">And dulls, or faintly dulls, the fiery sun,</span>
+<span class="verse">And lacquers all the glassy sky with gold.</span>
+<span class="verse">For so the strain that makes this mortal life</span>
+<span class="verse">Irksome or squalid, chains that bind us down,</span>
+<span class="verse">Rust on those chains which soils the reddening skin,</span>
+<span class="verse">Passes; and in that concentrated calm,</span>
+<span class="verse">And in that pure concinnity of soul,</span>
+<span class="verse">And in that heart that almost fails to beat,</span>
+<span class="verse">I read a faint beatitude, and dream</span>
+<span class="verse">I walk once more upon the roof of Heaven,</span>
+<span class="verse">And feel all knowledge, all capacity</span>
+<span class="verse">For sovereign thought, all intellectual joy,</span>
+
+<!-- Page 75 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+<span class="verse">Blow on me, like fluttering and like dancing winds.</span>
+<span class="verse">We are fallen, fallen!...</span>
+<span class="verse">And yet a nameless mirth, flooding my veins,</span>
+<span class="verse">And yet a sense of limpid happiness</span>
+<span class="verse">And buoyancy and anxious fond desire</span>
+<span class="verse">Quicken my being. It is much to see</span>
+<span class="verse">The perfected geography of thought</span>
+<span class="verse">Spread out before the gorged intelligence,</span>
+<span class="verse">A map from further detail long absolved.</span>
+<span class="verse">But ah! when we have tasted the delight</span>
+<span class="verse">Of toilsome apprehension, how return</span>
+<span class="verse">To that satiety of mental ease</span>
+<span class="verse">Where all is known because it merely is?</span>
+<span class="verse">Nay, here the joy will be to learn and learn,</span>
+<span class="verse">To learn in error and correct in pain,</span>
+<span class="verse">To learn through effort and with ease forget,</span>
+<span class="verse">Building of rough and slippery stones a House,</span>
+
+<!-- Page 76 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+<span class="verse">Long schemed, and falling from us, and at the last</span>
+<span class="verse">Imperfect. Knowledge not the aim, so much</span>
+<span class="verse">As pleasure in the toil that leads to knowledge,</span>
+<span class="verse">We shall build, although the house before our eyes</span>
+<span class="verse">Crumble, and we shall gladden in the toil</span>
+<span class="verse">Although it never leads to habitation&mdash;</span>
+<span class="verse">Building our goal, though never a fabric rise.</span>
+</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 77 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 78 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 79 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_V" id="Act_V"></a>V</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>The glen, down which a limpid and murmuring brook descends, with
+numerous tiny cascades and pools. Beside one of the latter,
+underneath a great beech-tree, and sitting on the root of it</i>,
+<span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span>, <i>alone. Enter from below, concealed at first by the
+undergrowth</i>, <span class="smcap">Ares</span>. <i>It is mid-day.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>to herself</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Here he comes at last, and from the opposite direction.... No! that
+cannot be Ph&oelig;bus.... Ah! it is you, then!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is it possible? Your Majesty&mdash;and alone!</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 80 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ph&oelig;bus offered me the rustic entertainment of gathering wild
+raspberries. We found some at length, and regaled ourselves. I
+wished for more, and Ph&oelig;bus, with his usual gallantry, wandered
+dreamily away into the forest on the quest. He has evidently lost
+his way. I sat me down on this tree and waited.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>Surely it is the first time that you were ever abroad unattended. I
+am amazed at the carelessness of Ph&oelig;bus. Aphrodite&mdash;without an
+attendant!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>That is rather a fatuous remark, and from you of all people in the
+world. My most agreeable reminiscences are, without exception,
+connected with occasions on which I had escaped from my body-guard
+of nymphs. At the present moment you would
+
+<!-- Page 81 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
+do well to face the
+fact, Ares, that I have but a single maid, and that she has
+collapsed under the burdens of novelty and exile.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is that my poor friend Cydippe?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>You have so many friends, Ares. Poor Cydippe, then, broke down this
+morning in moaning hysterics after having borne up just long enough
+to do my hair. I really came out on this rather mad adventure after
+the raspberries to escape the dolours of her countenance, and the
+last thing I saw was her chlamys flung wildly over her head as she
+dived down upon the floor in misery. Such consolations as this
+island has to give me will not proceed from what you call my
+attendant. You do not look well, Ares.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 82 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am always well. I am still incensed.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah, you are oppressed by our misfortunes?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>I can think of nothing else.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>You do not, I hope, give way to the most foolish of the emotions,
+and endure the silly torture of self-reproach?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have nothing to reproach myself with. Our forces had never been
+in smarter trim, public spirit in Olympus never more patriotic and
+national; and as to the personal bravery of our forces, it was
+simply a portent of moral splendour.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 83 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>And your discipline?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was perfect. I had led the troops up to the point of cheerfully
+marching and counter-marching until they were ready to drop with
+exhaustion, on the eve of each engagement; and at the ends of all
+our practising-grounds brick walls had been set up, at which every
+officer made it a point of honour to tilt head-foremost once a day.
+There was no refinement preserved from the good old wars of
+chivalry which was not familiar to our gallant fellows, and I had
+expressly forbidden every species of cerebral exercise. Nothing, I
+have always said, is so hurtful to the temper of an army as for the
+rank and file to suspect that they are led by men of brains.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>There every one must do you justice, Ares.
+
+<!-- Page 84 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+I never heard even the voice of prejudice raised to accuse you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>No; I do not think any one could have the effrontery to charge me
+with encouraging that mental effort which is so disastrous to the
+work of a soldier. The same old practices which led our forefathers
+to glory&mdash;the courage of tigers; the firm belief that if any one
+tried to be crafty it must be because he is a coward; a bull-front
+set straight at every obstacle, whatever its nature; a proper
+contempt for any plan or discovery made since the days of Father
+Uranus&mdash;these are the principles in which I disciplined our troops,
+and I will not admit that I can have anything to reproach myself
+with. The circumstances which we were unexpectedly called upon to
+face were such as could never have been anticipated.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 85 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I do not see that you could have done otherwise than, as you did,
+to refuse with dignity to anticipate anything so revolutionary.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>There are certain things which one seems to condone by merely
+acknowledging their existence. That employment of mobile
+mechanisms, for instance&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Do not speak of it! I could never have believed that the semblance
+of the military could be made so excessively distasteful to me.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>Can I imagine myself admitting the necessity of guarding against
+such an ungentlemanlike form of attack?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 86 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Your friends are all aware, Ares, that if the conditions were to
+return, you would never demean yourself and them by guarding
+against anything of the kind. But I advise you not to brood upon
+the past. Your figure will suffer. You must keep up your character
+for solid and agile exercises.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>It will not be easy for me to occupy myself here. I am accustomed,
+as you know, to hunting and slaying. I thought I might have enjoyed
+some sport with the barbarian islanders, and I selected one for the
+purpose. But Zeus intervened, with that authority which even here,
+in our shattered estate, we know not how to resist.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Did he give any reason for preventing the combat?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 87 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; and his reasons (I was bound to admit) carried some weight
+with them. He said, first, that it was wrong to kill those who had
+received us with so generous a hospitality; and secondly, that, as
+I am no longer immortal, this brawny savage, with hair so curiously
+coiled and matted over his brain-pan, might kill me; and thirdly,
+that the whole affair might indirectly lead to his, Zeus', personal
+inconvenience. Here then is enjoyment by one door quite shut out
+from me.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Are there not deer in these woods, and perhaps wolves and boars?
+There must be wild duck on the firth, and buzzards in the rocks.
+Instead of challenging the barbarians to a foolish trial of
+strength, why not make them your companions, and learn their
+accomplishments?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 88 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is possible that I shall do so. But for the present, anger
+gushes like an intermittent spring of bitter water in my bosom. I
+forget for a moment, and the fountain falls; and then, with a rush,
+memory leaps up in me, a column of poison. I say to myself, It
+cannot be, it shall not be; but I grow calm again and find that it
+is.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>The worst of the old immortality was the carelessness of it. We
+were utterly unprepared for anything bordering on catastrophe, and
+behold, without warning, we are swept away in a complete cataclysm
+of our fortunes. I see, Ares, that it will be long before you can
+recover serenity, or take advantage of the capabilities of our new
+existence. They will appeal to you more slowly than to the rest of
+us, and you will respond more unwillingly,
+
+<!-- Page 89 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+because of your
+lack&mdash;your voluntary and boasted lack&mdash;of all intellectual
+suppleness.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is not the business of a soldier to be supple.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>So it appears. And you will suffer for it. For, stiff and blank as
+you may determine to be, circumstances will overpower you. Under
+their influences you will not be able to avoid becoming softer and
+more redundant. But you will resist the process, I see, and you
+will make it as painful as you can.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>You discuss my case with a cheerful candour, Aphrodite. Are you
+sure of being happier yourself?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 90 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Not <i>sure</i>; but I have a reasonable confidence that I shall be
+fairly contented. For I, at least, am supple, and I court the
+influences which you think it a point of gallantry to resist.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>You will continue, I suppose, to make your main business the
+stimulating and the guiding of the affections? Here I admit that
+suppleness, as you call it, is in place.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Unfortunately, even here, immortality was no convenient prelude to
+our present state. We did not, indeed, neglect the heart&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>If I forget all else, there must be events&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 91 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Alas! we loved so briefly and with so facile a susceptibility, that
+I am tempted to ask myself whether in Olympus we really loved at
+all.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares</span> [<i>with ardour</i>].</p>
+
+<p>There, at least, memory supplies me with no sort of doubt&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>coldly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Let us keep to generalities. Looking broadly at our experience, I
+should say that the misfortune of the gods, as a preparation for
+their mortality, was that in their deathless state the affections
+fell at the foot of the tree, like these withered leaves. We should
+have fastened the branches of life together in long elastic wires
+of the thin-drawn gold of perdurable sentiment.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 92 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>The rapture, the violence, the hammering pulse, the bursting
+heart,&mdash;I see no resemblance between these and the leaves that
+flutter at our feet.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>These leaves had their moment of vitality, when the sap rushed
+through their veins, when their tissue was like a ripple of
+sparkling emerald on the face of the smiling sky. But they could
+not preserve their glow, and they are the more hopelessly dead now,
+because they burned in their green fire so fiercely.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>We felt no shadow of coming disability strike across our pleasures.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>No; but that was precisely what made our immortality such an ill
+preparation for
+
+<!-- Page 93 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
+a brief existence on this island. In Olympus the
+sentiment of yesterday was forgotten, and we realised the passion
+of to-day as little as the caprice of to-morrow. Perhaps this
+fragmentary tenderness was the real chastisement of our implacable
+prosperity.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares</span> [<i>in a very low voice</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Can we not resume in this our exile, and with more prospect of
+continuity, the emotions which were so agreeable in our former
+state? So agreeable&mdash;although, as you justly say, too ephemeral
+[<i>coming a little closer</i>]. Can you not teach us to moderate and to
+prolong the rapture?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>rising to her feet</i>].</p>
+
+<p>It may be. We shall see, Ares. But one thing I have already
+perceived. In this mortal sphere, the heart needs solitude, it
+needs silence. It must have its questionings
+
+<!-- Page 94 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+and its despairs. The
+triumphant supremacy of the old emotions cannot be repeated here.
+For we have a new enemy to contend with. Even if love should
+prosecute its conquests here in all the serenity of success, it
+will not be able to escape from an infliction worse than any which
+we dreamed of when we were immortals.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>And what is that, Aphrodite?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>The blight of indifference.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 95 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 96 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 97 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_VI" id="Act_VI"></a>VI</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Circe</span> <i>are seated on the grass in a little dell
+surrounded by beechwoods. Far away a bell is heard.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>What is that curious distant sound? Is it a bird?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Cydippe tells me that there is a temple on the hill beyond these
+woods. I wonder to whom amongst us it is dedicated?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>I think it must be to you, Aphrodite, for now it is explained that
+on coming hither I met a throng of men and maidens, sauntering
+
+<!-- Page 98 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
+slowly along in twos, exactly as they used to do at Paphos.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Were they walking apart, or wound together by garlands?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>They were wound together by the arm of the boy coiled about the
+waist of the girl, or resting upon it, a symbol, no doubt, of your
+cestus.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>eagerly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>With any animation of gesture, Circe?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>With absolutely none. The maidens were dressed&mdash;but not all of
+them&mdash;in robes of that very distressing electric blue that bites
+into the eye, that blue which never was on sky or sea, and which
+was absolutely banished from every colour-combination
+
+<!-- Page 99 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
+in Olympus.
+It was employed in Hades as a form of punishment, if you recollect.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>No doubt, then, this procession was a penitential one, and its
+object to appease my offended deity. But what a mistake, poor
+things! No one ever regained my favour by making a frump of
+herself.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>After these couples, came, in a very slow but formless moving
+group, figures of a sombre and spectral kind, draped, both males
+and females, in dull black, with little ornaments of gold in their
+hands. It was with the utmost amazement that, on their coming
+closer, I recognised some of the faces as those of the ruddy,
+gentle barbarians to whom we owe our existence here. You cannot
+think how painful it was to see them thus
+
+<!-- Page 100 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+travestied. In their
+well-fitting daily dress they look very attractive in a rustic
+mode; there is one large one that labours in the barn, who reminds
+me, when his sleeves are turned up, of Ulysses. But, oh! Aphrodite,
+you must contrive to let them know that you pardon their
+shortcomings, and relieve them from the horrors of this remorseful
+costume. I know not which is more depressing to the heart, the blue
+of the young or the black of the aged.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I expect that at this distance from the centre of things, all
+manner of misconception has crept into my ritual. Of course, I
+cannot now demand any rites, and that the dear good people should
+pay them at all is very touching.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Don't you think that it would be delightful
+
+<!-- Page 101 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+to introduce here a
+purer form of liturgy? It is very sad to see your spirit so little
+understood.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well, I hardly know. It is kind of you, Circe, to suggest such a
+thing. No doubt it would be very pleasant. But I feel, of course,
+the hollowness of the whole concern. We must be careful not to
+deceive the barbarians.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Certainly ... oh! yes, certainly. But ... I am sure it would be so
+good for them to have a ritual to follow. We should not absolutely
+assert to them that you still exist as an immortal, but I do not
+see why we should insist on tearing every illusion away from them.
+Suppose I could persuade them that you were no longer displeased
+with them, and that you were quite willing to let them wear pink
+and
+
+<!-- Page 102 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>
+white robes again, and plenty of flowers in their hair; and
+suppose I encouraged them to sacrifice turtle-doves on your altar,
+and arrange garlands of wild roses in the proper way, don't you
+think you could bring yourself to make a concession?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>What do you mean by a "concession"?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well, for instance, when they were all assembled in the temple, and
+had sung a hymn, and the priest had gone up to the altar, could you
+not suddenly make an appearance, voluminous and splendid, and smile
+upon them? Could you not shower a few champak-blossoms over the
+congregation?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 103 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is very ingenious of you to think of these things. But I suppose
+it would not be right to attempt to do it. In the first place it
+would encourage them to believe in my immortality&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh! but to <i>believe</i> is such a salutary discipline to the lower
+classes. That is the whole principle of religion, surely,
+Aphrodite? It is not for people like ourselves. You know how
+indolent Dionysus is, but he always attended the temple when he was
+hunting upon Nysa.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>There is a great deal in that argument, no doubt. Only, what will
+be the result when they discover that it is all a mistake, and
+that I am a mortal like themselves?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 104 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>You never can be a mortal like the barbarians, for you have been a
+force ruling the sea, and the flowers, and the winds, and twisting
+the blood of man and woman in your fingers like a living skein of
+soft red silk. They will always worship you. It may not be in
+temples any longer, not with a studied liturgy, but wherever the
+sap rises in a flower, or the joy of life swims up in the morning
+through the broken film of dreams, or a young man perceives for the
+first time that the girl he meets is comely, you will be
+worshipped, Aphrodite, for the essence of your immortality is the
+cumulative glow of its recurrent mortality.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes</span> [<i>entering abruptly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>You will be disappointed&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! you followed the youths and maidens
+
+<!-- Page 105 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
+to the little temple of our friend. Is it not beautiful?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is hideous.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Are you sure that it is a temple at all?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>I confess that I was for a long time uncertain, but on the whole I
+believe that it is.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>But is it dedicated to me?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>That is the disappointment.... It is best to tell you at once that
+I see no evidence whatever that it is.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 106 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am very much disappointed.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am very much relieved. But could you not gather from the
+decoration of the interior to whom of us it is inscribed?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is not decorated at all: whitewashed walls, wooden benches,
+naked floors.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>But what is the nature of the sculpture?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>I could see no sculpture, except a sort of black tablet, with names
+upon it, and at the sides two of the youthful attendants of
+Eros&mdash;those that have wings, indeed, but cannot rest. These were
+exceedingly
+
+<!-- Page 107 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+ill-carven in a kind of limestone. And I hardly like to
+tell you what I found behind the altar&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am not easily shocked. My poor worshippers sometimes demand a
+very considerable indulgence.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Nothing very ugly, I hope?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; very ugly, and still more incomprehensible. But nothing that
+could spring out of any misconception of the ritual of our friend.
+No; I hardly like to tell you. Well, a gaunt painted figure, with
+spines about the bleeding forehead&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Was it fastened to any symbol? Did you
+
+<!-- Page 108 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
+notice anything that explained the horror of it?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>No. I did not observe it very closely. As I was glancing at it, the
+celebration or ritual, or whatever we are to call it, began, and I
+withdrew to the door, not knowing what frenzy might seize upon the
+worshippers.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>There was a cannibal altar in Arcadia to Ph&oelig;bus, so I have
+heard. He instantly destroyed it, and scattered the ignorant
+savages who had raised it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>There was a touch of desolate majesty about this figure. I fear
+that it portrays some blighting Power of suffering or of grief.
+[<i>He shudders.</i>]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 109 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>There are certainly deities of whom we knew nothing in Olympus.
+Perhaps this is the temple of some Unknown God.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>I admit that I thought, with this picture, and with their sinister
+garments of black and of blue, and with the bareness and harshness
+of the temple, that something might be combined which it would give
+me no satisfaction to witness. I placed myself near the door,
+where, in a moment, I could have regained the exquisite forest, and
+the odour of this carpet of woodruff, and your enchanting society.
+But nothing occurred to disconcert me. After genuflexions and
+liftings of the voice&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>What was the object of these?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 110 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>I absolutely failed to determine. Well, the priest&mdash;if I can so
+describe a man without apparent dedication, robed without charm,
+and exalted by no visible act of sacrifice&mdash;ascended a species of
+open box, and spoke to the audience from the upturned lid of it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>What did he say? Did he explain the religion of his people?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>To tell you the truth, Circe, although I listened with what
+attention I could, and although the actual language was perfectly
+clear to me&mdash;you know I am rather an accomplished linguist&mdash;I
+formed no idea of what he said. I could not find the
+starting-point of his experience.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 111 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>To whom can this temple be possibly dedicated?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>Depend upon it, it is not a temple at all. What Hermes was present
+at was unquestionably some gathering of local politicians. Poor
+these barbarians may be, but they could not excuse by poverty such
+a neglect of the decencies as he describes. No flowers, no bright
+robes, no music of stringed instruments, no sacrifice&mdash;it is quite
+impossible that the meanest of sentient beings should worship in
+such a manner. And as for the picture which you saw behind what you
+took to be the altar, I question not that it is used to keep in
+memory some ancestor who suffered from the tyranny of his masters.
+In the belief that he was assisting at a process of rustic worship,
+our
+
+<!-- Page 112 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+poor Hermes has doubtless attended a revolutionary meeting.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Dreadful! But may its conflicts long keep outside the arcades of
+this delightful woodland!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>And still we know not to which of us the mild barbarians pray!</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 113 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 114 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 115 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_VII" id="Act_VII"></a>VII</h2>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The same scene, but no one present. A butterfly flits across from
+the left, makes several pirouettes and exit to the right.</i> <span class="smcap">Hera</span>
+<i>enters quickly from the left</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>Could I be mistaken? What is this overpowering perfume? Is it
+conceivable that in this new world odours take corporeal shape?
+Anything is conceivable, except that I was mistaken in thinking
+that I saw it fly across this meadow. It can only have been
+beckoning me. [<i>The butterfly re-enters from the right, and, after
+towering upwards, and wheeling in every direction, settles on a
+cluster of meadow-sweet. It is followed from the right
+
+<!-- Page 116 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
+by</i> <span class="smcap">Eros</span>.
+<i>He and</i> <span class="smcap">Hera</span> <i>look at one another in silence</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>You are occupied, Eros. I will not detain you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I propose to stay here for a little while. Are you moving on?
+[<i>Each of them fixes eyes on the insect.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>I must beg you to leave me, or to remain perfectly motionless. I am
+excessively agitated.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I followed the being which is hanging downwards from that spray of
+blossom. Does it recall some one to you?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 117 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>Not in its present position. But I will not pretend, Eros, that it
+is not the source of my agitation. Look at it now, as it flings
+itself round the stalk, and opens and waves its fans. Do you still
+not comprehend?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I see nothing in it now. I am disappointed.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>But those great coloured eyes, waxing and waning! Those moons of
+pearl! The copper that turns to crimson, the turquoise that turns
+to violet, the greenish, pointed head that swings and rolls its
+yoke of slender plumage! Ah! Eros, is it possible that you do not
+perceive that it is a symbol of my peacock, my bird translated
+into the language of this narrow and suppressed existence of ours?
+What a
+
+<!-- Page 118 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+strange and exquisite messenger! My poor peacock, with a
+strident shriek of terror, fled from me on that awful morning, the
+flames singeing its dishevelled train, its wings helplessly
+flapping in the torrents of conflagration. It bade me no adieu, its
+clangour of despair rang forth, an additional note of discord, from
+the inner courts of my palace. And out of its agony, of its horror,
+it has contrived to send me this adorable renovation of itself, all
+its grace and all its splendour reincarnated in this tiny creature.
+But alas! how am I to capture, how to communicate with it?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I hesitate to disturb your illusion, Hera. But you are singularly
+mistaken. I have a far greater interest in this messenger than you
+can have; and if you dream its presence to be a tribute to your
+pride, I am much more tenderly certain
+
+<!-- Page 119 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+that it is a reproach to my
+affections. See, those needlessly gaudy wings,&mdash;a mere disguise to
+bring it through the multitude of its enemies&mdash;are closed now, and
+it resumes its pendulous attitude, as a&euml;rial as an evening cloud,
+as graceful as sorrow itself, sable as the shadow of a leaf in the
+moonlight.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>Whom do you suppose it to represent, Eros?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>"Represent" is an inadequate word. I know it to be, in some
+transubstantiation, the exact nature of which I shall have to
+investigate, my adored and injured Psyche. You never appreciated
+her, Hera.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was necessary in such a society as ours
+
+<!-- Page 120 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+to preserve the
+hierarchical distinctions. She was a charming little creature, and
+I never allowed myself to indulge in the violent prejudice of your
+mother. When you presented her at last, I do not think that you had
+any reason to reproach me with want of civility.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The butterfly dances off.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Eros</span>
+<i>together</i>.</p>
+
+<p>It is gone.</p>
+
+<p class="center">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>We are in a curious dilemma. Unless we are to conceive that two of
+the lesser Olympians have been able to combine in adopting a
+symbolic disguise, either you or I have been deceived. That
+tantalising visitant can scarcely have been at the same time Psyche
+and my peacock.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I know not why; and for my part am
+
+<!-- Page 121 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+perfectly willing to recognise
+its spots and moons to your satisfaction, if you will permit me to
+recognise my own favourite in the garb of grief.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>My bird was ever a masquerader&mdash;it may be so.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Psyche, also, was not unaccustomed to disguises.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>You take the recollection coolly, Eros.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Would you have me shriek and moan? Would you have me throw myself
+in convulsive ecstasy upon that ambiguous insect? You are not the
+first, Hera, who has gravely misunderstood my character. I am not,
+I have never been, a victim of the
+
+<!-- Page 122 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+impulsive passions. The only
+serious misunderstandings which I have ever had with my illustrious
+mother have resulted from her lack of comprehension of this fact.
+<i>She</i> is impulsive, if you will! Her existence has been a
+succession of centrifugal adventures, in which her sole idea has
+been to hurl herself outward from the solitude of her
+individuality. I, on the other hand, leave very rarely, and with
+peculiar reluctance, the rock-crystal tower from which I watch the
+world, myself unavoidable and unattainable. My arrows penetrate
+every disguise, every species of physical and spiritual armour, but
+they are not turned against my own heart. I have always been
+graceful and inconspicuous in my attitudes. The image of Eros, with
+contorted shoulders and projected elbows, aiming a shaft at
+himself, is one which the Muse of Sculpture would shudder to
+contemplate.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 123 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>Then what was the meaning of your apparent infatuation for Psyche?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>O do not call it "apparent." It was genuine and it was
+all-absorbing. But it was absolutely exceptional. Looking back, it
+seems to me that I must have been gazing at myself in a mirror, and
+have dismissed an arrow before I realised who was the quarry. It is
+not necessary to remind you of the circumstances&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>You would, I suppose, describe them as exceptional?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>As wholly exceptional. And could I be expected to prolong an ardour
+so foreign to my nature? The victim of passion cannot be a
+contemplator at the same
+
+<!-- Page 124 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
+moment, and I may frankly admit to you,
+Hera, that during the period of my infatuation for Psyche, there
+were complaints from every province of the universe. It was said
+that unless my attention could be in a measure diverted from that
+admirable girl, there would be something like a stagnation of
+general vitality. Ph&oelig;bus remarked one day, that if the ploughman
+became the plough the cessation of harvests would be inevitable.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was at that moment, I suppose, that you besought Zeus so
+passionately to confer upon Psyche the rank of a goddess?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>You took that, no doubt, for an evidence of my intenser
+infatuation. An error; it was a proof that the arguments of the
+family were beginning to produce their effect
+
+<!-- Page 125 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+upon me. I perceived
+my responsibility, and I recognised that it was not the place of
+the immortal organiser of languishment to be sighing himself. To
+deify my lovely Psyche was to recognise her claim, and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>To give you a convenient excuse for neglecting her?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is that crudity of yours, Hera, which has before now made your
+position in Olympus so untenable. You lack the art of elegant
+insinuation.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>Am I then to believe that you were playing a part when you seemed
+a little while ago so anxious to recognise Psyche in the drooping
+butterfly?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 126 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh! far from it. The sentiment of recognition was wholly genuine
+and almost rapturously pleasurable. It is true that in the
+confusion of our flight I had not been able to give a thought to
+our friend, who was, unless I am much mistaken, absent from her
+palace. Nor will I be so absurd as to pretend that I have, for a
+long while past, felt at all keenly the desire for her company. She
+has very little conversation. There are certain peculiarities of
+manner, which&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>I know exactly what you mean. My peacock has a very peculiar voice,
+and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span> [<i>impatiently</i>].</p>
+
+<p>You must permit me to protest against any comparison between Psyche
+and your worthy
+
+<!-- Page 127 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>
+bird. But I was going to say that the moment I saw
+the brilliant little discrepancy which led us both to this
+spot&mdash;and to which I hesitate to give a more definite name&mdash;I was
+instantly and most pleasantly reminded of certain delightful
+episodes, of a really charming interlude, if I may so call it. I
+cannot be perfectly certain what connection our ebullient
+high-flyer has with the goddess whose adorer I was and whose friend
+I shall ever be. But the symbol&mdash;if it be no more than a
+symbol&mdash;has been sufficient to awaken in me all that was most
+enjoyable in our relations. I shall often wander in these woods,
+among the cloud-like masses of odorous blossom, in this windless
+harbour of sunlight and the murmur of leaves, in the hope of
+finding the little visitant here. She will never fail to remind me,
+but without disturbance, of all that was happiest in a series of
+relations which grew at last not so wholly
+
+<!-- Page 128 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
+felicitous as they once
+had been. One of the pleasures this condition of mortality offers
+us, I foresee, is the perpetual recollection of what was delightful
+in the one serious liaison of my life, and of nothing else.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>Aphrodite would charge you with cynicism, Eros.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>It would not be the first time that she has mistaken my philosophy
+for petulance.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 129 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 130 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 131 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_VIII" id="Act_VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>On the terrace beside the house are seated</i>
+<span class="smcap">Persephone</span>, <span class="smcap">Maia</span>,
+<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Chloris</span>.
+<i>The afternoon is rapidly waning, and lights are
+seen to twinkle on the farther shore of the sea. As the twilight
+deepens, from just out of sight a man's voice is heard singing as
+follows</i>:]</p>
+
+<div class="poem ital">
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As I lay on the grass, with the sun in the west,</span>
+<span class="i0">A woman went by me, a babe at her breast;</span>
+<span class="i2">She kissed it and pressed it,</span>
+<span class="i2">She cooed, she caressed it,</span>
+<span class="i0">Then rocked it to sleep in her elbow-nest.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She rocked it to rest with a sad little song,</span>
+<span class="i0">How the days were grown short, and the nights grown long;</span>
+
+<!-- Page 132 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">How love was a rover,</span>
+<span class="i2">How summer was over,</span>
+<span class="i0">How the winds of winter were shrill and strong.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We must haste, she sang, while the sky is bright,</span>
+<span class="i0">While the paths are plain and the town's in sight,</span>
+<span class="i2">Lest the shadows that watch us</span>
+<span class="i2">Should creep up and catch us,</span>
+<span class="i0">For the dead walk here in the grass at night.</span>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent">[<i>The voice withdraws farther down the woods, but from a
+lower istance, in the clear evening, the last stanza is heard repeated.
+The</i> <span class="smcap">Goddesses</span> <i>continue silent, until the
+voice has died away</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Rude words set to rude music; but they seem to penetrate to the
+very core of the heart.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 133 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>Are you sad to-night, Chloris?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Not sad, precisely; but anxious, feverish, a little excited.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Hark! the song begins again.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>They listen, and from far away the words come faintly back:</i></p>
+
+<p class="left"><i>For the dead walk here in the grass at night.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>The dead! Shall we see them?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Why not? These barbarians appear to avoid them with an invincible
+terror, but why should we do so?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>I do not feel that it would be possible for
+
+<!-- Page 134 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
+the dead to "catch" me,
+since I should be instantly and keenly watching for them, and much
+more eager to secure their presence than they could be to secure
+mine.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>We do not know of what we speak, for it may very well be that the
+barbarians have some experience of these beings. Their influence
+may be not merely malign, but disgusting.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>How ignorant we are!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Surely, Persephone, you must be able to give us some idea of the
+dead. Were they not the sole occupants of your pale dominions?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 135 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is very absurd of me, but really I do not seem to recollect
+anything about them.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>I suppose you disliked living in Hades very much?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well, I spent six months there every year, to please my husband.
+But a great deal of my time was taken up in corresponding with my
+mother. She was always nervous if she did not hear regularly from
+me. I really feel quite ashamed of my inattention.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>You don't even recall what the inhabitants of the country were
+like?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 136 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>I recollect that they seemed dreadfully wanting in vitality. They
+came in troops when I held a reception; they swept by.... I cannot
+remember what they were like&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>It must have been dreary for you there, Persephone.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well, we had our own interests. I believe I did my duty. It seemed
+to me that I must be there if Pluto wished it, and I was pleased to
+be with him. But&mdash;if you can understand me&mdash;there was a sort of a
+dimness over everything, and I never entered into the political
+life of the place. As to the social life, you can imagine that they
+were not people that one cared to know. At the same time, of
+course, I feel now how ridiculous it was
+
+<!-- Page 137 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+of me to hold that position and not take more interest.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>Demeter, of course, never encouraged you to make any observation of
+the manners and customs of Hades.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh, no! that was just it. She always said: "Pray don't let me hear
+the least thing about the horrid place." You remember that she very
+strongly disapproved of my going there at all&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; I remember that Arethusa, when she brought me back my
+daffodils, told me how angry Demeter was&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>And yet she was quite nice to my husband
+
+<!-- Page 138 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+when once Zeus had decided that I had better go.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>There is a pause.</i> <span class="smcap">Maia</span>
+<i>rises and leans on the parapet, over the
+woods, now drowned in twilight, to the sea, which still faintly
+glitters. She turns and comes back to the other two, standing above
+them.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>I, too, might have observed something as I went sailing over the
+purpureal ocean. But I was always talking to my sisters. The fact
+is we all of us neglected to learn anything about death.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>We thought of it as of something happening in that world of Hades
+which could never become of the slightest importance to us. Who
+could have imagined
+
+<!-- Page 139 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>
+that we should have to take it into practical account?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well, now we shall have to accept it, to be prepared for its
+tremendous approach.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris</span> [<i>after a pause</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps this famous "death" may prove after all to be only another
+kind of life. [<i>Rising and approaching</i> <span class="smcap">Maia</span>.]
+Don't you think this is indicated even by the song of these barbarians? Besides, our
+stay here must be the ante-chamber to something wholly different.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>We can hardly suppose that it can lead to nothing.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>No; surely we shall put off more or less
+
+<!-- Page 140 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+leisurely, with dignity or
+without it, the garments of our sensuous existence, and discover
+something underneath all these textures of the body?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>One of our priests in Hades, I do remember, sang that silence was a
+voice, and declared that even in the deserts of immensity the soul
+was stunned and deafened by the chorus and anti-chorus of nature.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>What did he mean? What is the soul?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>I must confess that in this our humility, our corporeal
+degradation, instead of feeling crushed, I am curiously conscious
+of a wider range of sensibility. Perhaps that
+
+<!-- Page 141 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
+is the soul? Perhaps,
+in the suppression of our immortality, something metallic,
+something hermetical, has been broken down, and already we stand
+more easily exposed to the influences of the spirit?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris.</span></p>
+
+<p>In that case, to slough the sheaths of the body, one by one, ought
+to be to come nearer to the final freedom, and the last coronation
+and consecration of existence may prove to be this very "death" we
+dread so much.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>I can fancy that such conjectures as these may prove to be one of
+the chief sources of satisfaction in this new mortality of ours:
+the variegated play of light and shadow thrown upon it. Well,
+
+<!-- Page 142 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+the less we know and see, the more exciting it ought to be to guess and
+to peer.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>And some of us, depend upon it, will be able to persuade ourselves
+that we alone can use our eyesight in the pitch profundity of
+darkness, and these will find a peculiar pleasure in tormenting the
+others who have less confidence in their imagination.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>They seat themselves, and are silent. Far away is once more
+faintly heard the song, and then it dies away. A long silence.
+Then, a confused hum of cries and voices is heard, and approaches
+the terrace from below. The Goddesses start to their feet. From the
+left appear</i> <span class="smcap">Silvanus</span>, <span class="smcap">Alcyone</span>
+<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fauna</span>, <i>bearing the body of</i>
+<span class="smcap">Cydippe</span>, <i>which they place
+
+<!-- Page 143 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
+very carefully on the grass in front of the scene</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Chloris</span> [<i>in an excited whisper</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Is this our first experience of the mystery?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Fauna</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Alcyone</span>.</p>
+
+<p>She is dead! She is dead!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>The first of the immortals to succumb to the burden of mortality!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Silvanus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Where is &AElig;sculapius? Call him, call him!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>He cannot bring back the dead.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>What has happened? Cydippe is livid,
+
+<!-- Page 144 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
+her limbs are stark, her eyes
+are wide open, and motionless, and unnaturally brilliant.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Silvanus</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Chloris</span>].</p>
+
+<p>She was gathering a little posy of your wild flowers&mdash;eyebright,
+and crane's bills and small blue pansies, when&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Fauna.</span></p>
+
+<p>There glided out of the intertwisted fibres of the blue-berries a
+serpent&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Alcyone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Grey, with black arrows down the spine, and a flat, diabolical
+head&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Fauna.</span></p>
+
+<p>And Cydippe never saw it, and stretched out her hand again,
+and&mdash;see&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 145 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Silvanus.</span></p>
+
+<p>The viper fixed his fangs here, in the blue division of the vein,
+here in her translucent wrist. See, it swells, it darkens!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Fauna.</span></p>
+
+<p>And with a scream she fell, and swooned away, and died, turning
+backwards, so that her hair caught in the springy herbage, and her
+head rolled a little in her pain, so that her hair was loosened and
+tightened, and look, there are still little tufts of blue-berry
+leaves in her hair.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Silvanus.</span></p>
+
+<p>But here comes &AElig;sculapius.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>They all greet</i> <span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>,
+<i>who enters from the left, with his basket of remedies</i>.]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 146 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! sage master of simples, this is a problem beyond thy solution,
+a case beyond thy cure.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span> [<i>to the goddesses</i>].</p>
+
+<p>You think that Cydippe is dead?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>Unquestionably. The savage viper has slain her.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Then prepare to behold what should seem a greater miracle to you
+than to me. But, first, Silvanus, bind a strip of clothing very
+tightly round the upper part of her arm, for no more than we can
+help of those treasonable messengers must fly posting from the
+wound to Cydippe's heart.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 147 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone</span> [<i>sententiously</i>].</p>
+
+<p>It can receive no more such messages.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>I think you are mistaken. And now, Fauna, a few drops of water in
+this cup from the trickling spring yonder. That is well. Stand
+farther away from Cydippe, all of you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>What are those pure white needles you drop into the water? How
+quickly they dissolve. Ah! he lays the mixture to Cydippe's wound.
+She sighs; her eyelids close; her heart is beating. What is this
+magic, &AElig;sculapius?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Do not tell your husband, Persephone, or he will complain to Zeus
+that I am depriving him of his population. But if there is magic
+in this, there is no miracle. [<i>To
+
+<!-- Page 148 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>
+the others.</i>] Take her softly
+into the house and lay her down. She will take a long sleep, and
+will wake at the end of it with no trace of the poison or
+recollection of her suffering.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>They carry</i> <span class="smcap">Cydippe</span> <i>forth</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Persephone</span>, <span class="smcap">Maia</span>, <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span> <i>remain</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>Then&mdash;she was not dead?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>No; it was but the poison-swoon, which precedes death, if it be not
+arrested.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>How rejoiced I am!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>One would say your joy had disappointed you.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 149 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Maia.</span></p>
+
+<p>No, indeed, for I am attached to Cydippe, but oh! Persephone, it is
+strange to be at the very threshold of the mystery&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>And to have the opening door shut in our faces? Perhaps ... next
+time ... they may not be able to find &AElig;sculapius.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 150 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 151 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 152 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 153 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_IX" id="Act_IX"></a>IX</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>The terrace, as in the first scene</i>; <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>
+<i>enters from the house, conducted by</i> <span class="smcap">Hebe</span>
+<i>and several of the lesser divinities</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hebe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Will your Majesty be pleased to descend to the lower boskage?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>No! Place my throne here, out of the wind, in the sun, which seems
+to have very little fire left in it, but some pleasant light still.
+The sea down there is bright again to-day; the carrying of our
+unfortunate person upon its surface was probably the source of
+immense alarm to it. It quaked and blackened continuously. Now
+
+<!-- Page 154 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>
+we are removed, it regains something of its normal quiescence. I trust
+that the land hereabouts is dowered with a less painful
+susceptibility.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ganymede.</span></p>
+
+<p>A priest, sire, the only one who saved his musical instrument
+through our calamities, stands within. Is your Majesty disposed to
+be sung to?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>No, certainly not. Which is he? [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Priest</span>
+<i>is pointed out</i>.]
+What an odd-looking person! Yes, he may give me a specimen of his
+art&mdash;a short one.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Priest</span> <i>comes forward;
+he is dressed in wild Thessalian
+raiment. He approaches with uncouth gestures, and a mixture of
+servility and self-consciousness. On receiving a nod from</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>,
+<i>he tunes his instrument and sings as follows</i>:]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 155 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem indent ital">
+<span class="i2">Wild swans winging</span>
+<span class="i3">Through the blue,</span>
+<span class="i2">Spiders springing</span>
+<span class="i3">To a clue,</span>
+<span class="i1">Till the sparkling drops renew</span>
+<span class="i2">All that ever</span>
+<span class="i2">Youth's endeavour</span>
+<span class="i1">Had determined to undo.</span>
+<span class="i0">White and blue are hoards of treasure,</span>
+<span class="i0">For the panting hands of pleasure</span>
+<span class="i0">To go dropping, dropping, dropping,</span>
+<span class="i2">Without measure</span>
+<span class="i1">Through and through.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Very pretty, I must say. Would you repeat it again?</p>
+
+<p class="left">[<span class="smcap">Priest</span> <i>repeats it again</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>What does it ... exactly <i>mean</i>? I think it quite pretty, you
+understand.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 156 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>Does your Majesty receive any impression from it?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well, I don't know that I could precisely parse it. But it is very
+pretty. Yes, I think I gain a certain impression from it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>Do you not feel, sire, a peculiar sense of flush, of spring-tide&mdash;a
+direct juvenile ebullience?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah, no doubt, no doubt. And a kind of nostalgia, or harking-back to
+happier days, a sense of their rapid passage, and their
+irrecoverability. Is that right?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is a positive divination!</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 157 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am conscious of the agreeable recollection of an incident&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest</span> [<i>with rapture</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Ah!&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>A little event?&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>You make my heart beat so high, sire, that I can hardly speak.
+Deign, sire, to recall that incident.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>with extreme affability</i>].</p>
+
+<p>It was hardly an incident.... I merely happened, while you were
+reciting your song, to remember an occasion on which&mdash;on which
+Iris, at the rampart of our golden wall, bending back, was caught
+by the wind, and&mdash;and the contours were delicious.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 158 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh! the word, the word!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>with slight hauteur</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I do not follow you. Her rainbow&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! yes, sire, the rainbow, the rainbow! O what an art of
+incontestable divination!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>much animated</i>].</p>
+
+<p>But you did not say anything about a rainbow, nor describe one, nor
+ever mention the elements of such a bow.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! no, sire. That is the art of the New Poetry. It names nothing,
+it describes nothing. All that it designs to do is to place the
+mind of the listener&mdash;of the august and perspicacious listener&mdash;in
+
+<!-- Page 159 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>
+such an attitude as that the unnamed, the undescribed object rises
+full in vision. The poet flings forth his melody, and to the gross
+ear it seems a mere tinkle of inanity. That is simply because the
+crowd who worship at the shrine of the Sminthean Apollo have been
+accustomed by an old-fashioned and ridiculously incompetent
+priesthood to look for an instant and mechanical relation between
+sound and sense. I would not exaggerate, sire; but the kind of
+poetry lately cultivated, not only at Delphi, but in Delos also, is
+simply obsolete.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>suspiciously</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Again I am not sure that I quite follow you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>To your Majesty, at least, the New Poetry opens its casket as
+widely as the rose-bud does to the zephyr.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 160 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I can follow that&mdash;but it rather reminds me of the Old Poetry.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Priest.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was intended to do so. What promptitude of mind! What divine
+penetration!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>affably</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I have always believed that if I had enjoyed leisure from public
+life, I should have excelled in my judgment of the fine arts. [<i>To
+the</i> <span class="smcap">Priest</span>, <i>with gravity</i>.] You are a
+gifted young man. Be sure that you employ your talents with discretion. Such
+an intellect as yours carries responsibility with it. I shall be quite pleased to
+permit you to recite "The Rainbow" to me again. [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Priest</span>
+<i>prepares to recite it</i>.]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 161 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh, not now! Some other time! [<i>Graciously dismisses the</i>
+<span class="smcap">Priest</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>after a long pause</i>].</p>
+
+<p>The attitude of my family, in these ambiguous circumstances, is
+everything that could be desired. My original feeling of
+irritability has passed away. I should have supposed it to be what
+Pallas calls "fatigue," a confusion or discord of the
+nerve-centres, which she tells me is incident to mortality. What
+Pallas can possibly know about it is more than I can guess,
+especially, as there were not infrequent occasions on Olympus
+itself on which my Supreme Godhead was disturbed by flashes of what
+I should be forced to describe as exasperation, states of mind in
+which I formed&mdash;and indeed executed&mdash;the sudden project of
+breaking something. These were, I believe, simply the
+
+<!-- Page 162 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
+result of an
+excessive sense of responsibility. I am not one of those who
+conceive that the duty of deity is to sit passive beside the cup of
+nectar. Here on this island, in the permanent absence of that
+refreshment, I reflect (I perceive that I shall have very frequent
+opportunities for reflection) that I was perhaps only too anxious
+to preserve the harmony of heaven. My sense of decorum&mdash;may it not
+have been excessive? From below, as I imagine, from the stations
+occupied&mdash;I will not say by the inanimate or half-animate creation,
+such as insects, or men, or minerals&mdash;but by the demi-gods, I take
+it that the dignity and orbic beauty of our court appeared
+sublimely immaculate. In the inner circle, alas! no one knows
+better than I do that there were&mdash;well, dissensions. I will go
+further, in candour to myself, and admit that these occasionally
+led to excesses. I cannot charge my recollection with my having done
+
+<!-- Page 163 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>
+anything to excuse or encourage these. The personal conduct of
+the Sovereign was always, I cannot but believe, above reproach. But
+the eccentricities&mdash;if I may style them so&mdash;of certain of my
+children were sometimes regrettable. I wonder that they did not age
+me; they would do so immediately in my present condition. But in
+this island, where we are to swarm like animalcules in a drop of
+water, I shall be relieved of all responsibility. Where there is no
+one to notice that errors are committed, no errors <i>are</i> committed.
+As the person of most experience in the whole world, I do not mind
+stating my ripe opinion that a fault which has no effect upon
+political conditions is in no sensible degree a fault at all.
+Pallas would contend the point, I suppose, but I am at ease. I
+shall not allow the conduct of my children, except as it shall
+regard myself, to affect my good-humour in the slightest degree.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 164 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus</span> <i>enters,
+slowly pacing across the terrace</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Your planet seems to have recovered something of its tone,
+Ph&oelig;bus.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>If, father, you regard&mdash;as you have every right to do&mdash;your
+venerable person as the centre of my interests, I rejoice to allow
+that this seems to be the case.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>with a touch of reserve</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I meant that the sun shows a tendency to return to its forgotten
+orbit. It is quite warm here out of the wind. [<i>More genially.</i>]
+But as to myself, I admit a great recovery in my spirits. I have
+given up fretting for Iris, who was certainly lost on our way here,
+and Pallas has been showing me a curious little jewel she brought
+with her, which has created in me a kind of wistful cheeriness.
+
+<!-- Page 165 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>
+I do not remember to have experienced anything of the kind before.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I declare I believe that you will adapt yourself as well as the
+rest of us to this anomalous existence.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>We shall see; and I shall have so much time now, that I may
+even&mdash;what I am sure ought to gratify you, Ph&oelig;bus,&mdash;be able to
+give my attention to the fine arts. A fallen monarch can always
+defy adversity by forming a collection of curiosities.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>If you make the gem of which Pallas is so proud the nucleus of your
+cabinet, I feel convinced that it will give you lasting
+satisfaction. And we are so poor now that it can never be complete,
+and therefore
+
+<!-- Page 166 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>
+never become tiresome. But what was it that the
+oracle of Nemea amused and puzzled us by saying, "To form a
+collection is well, yet to take a walk is better"? I will attend
+your Majesty to your apartments, and then wander in these extensive
+woods.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+[<i>Exeunt.</i>
+</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 167 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 168 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 169 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_X" id="Act_X"></a>X</h2>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>A dell below the house, with a white poplar-tree growing alone.
+Under it</i> <span class="smcap">Heracles</span> <i>sits, in an attitude of deep dejection,
+his club fallen at his feet, a horn empty at his side. To him enters</i>
+<span class="smcap">Eros</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have been congratulating our friends on their surpassing
+cheerfulness. Even Zeus is displaying a marvellous longanimity in
+his adverse state, and Pallas is positively frivolous. We must have
+disembarked, however, upon the island of Paradox, for everything
+goes by contraries; here I find you, Heracles, commonly so serene
+and uplifted, sunken in the pit of depression. You should squeeze
+
+<!-- Page 170 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>
+the breath out of your melancholy, as you did out of Hera's snakes
+so long ago.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>That was a foolish tale. Do you not recollect that I am not as the
+rest of you?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Come, man, brighten up! You look as sulky as you did when I broke
+your bow and arrows, and set Aphrodite laughing at you. But I have
+learned manners, and the goddesses only smile now. Cheer up! How is
+your destiny a whit different from ours?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>That rude old story about Alcmena, Eros&mdash;it is impossible that you
+can be the dupe of that? When I hunted lions on Cithaeron&mdash;that
+really <i>was</i> a gentlemanlike
+
+<!-- Page 171 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>
+sport, my friend&mdash;when I hunted lions
+I was not a god. Gods don't hunt lions, Eros; I have not gone
+a-hunting since that curious affair on Mount &OElig;ta. You remember
+it?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have preferred to forget it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>Only an immortal can afford wilfully to forget, and I&mdash;well, you
+know as well as I do that I am only a mortal canonised. I never
+understood the incident, I confess. I lay down among the ferns to
+sleep, after an unusually heavy day's bag of monsters. It was
+sultry weather; I woke to an oppressive sense of singeing, I found
+myself enveloped in a blaze of leaves and brushwood.... But I bore
+you, and what does it matter now? What does anything matter?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 172 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>No, no; pray continue! I am excessively interested. You throw a
+light on something that has always puzzled me, something that&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>A dense black smoke blinded and numbed me. The next moment, as it
+seemed&mdash;perhaps it was the next day&mdash;I was hustled up through the
+&aelig;ther to Olympus, and dumped down at the foot of Zeus' throne.
+Perhaps you remember?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, for I was there.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>All of you were there. And Zeus came down and took me by the
+wrist. Olympus rang with shouts and the clapping of hands. I was
+hailed with unanimity
+
+<!-- Page 173 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>
+as an immortal; the ambrosia melted between
+my charred lips; I rose up amongst you all, immaculate and fresh.
+But when, or how, or wherefore I have never known. And now I shall
+never care to know.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>You are a strange mixture, Heracles; strangely contradictory. You
+never quailed before any scaly horror, you never spared a truculent
+robber or a noisome beast, nor avoided a laborious act&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>These might be quoted, I should have thought, as instances of my
+consistency.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, but then (you must really forgive me) your weakness in the
+matter of Omphale did seem, to those who knew you not, like want
+of self-respect. I have
+
+<!-- Page 174 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>
+the reputation of shrinking, in the pursuit
+of pleasure, from no fantastic disguise, but I never sat spinning
+in the garments of a servant-maid. You must have looked a strange
+daughter of the plough, Heracles. I blush for you to think of it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was odd, certainly. Yet if <i>you</i> cannot comprehend it, Eros, I
+despair of explaining it to anybody. I should never do it again.
+You must admit I showed no want of firmness afterwards in dealing
+with Hebe, but then, she never interested me. Is she here? But do
+not reply, I am not anxious to learn.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Your dejection passes beyond all bounds. You cannot have been
+shown the singularly cheerful little jewel which Pallas
+
+<!-- Page 175 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+has brought with her? It raises every one's spirits.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>It will not raise mine; for all of you, Eros, have been immortals
+from the beginning, and your mortality is a new and pungent flavour
+on the moral palate. But the taste of it was known of old to me,
+and I am not its dupe. It simply carries me back to the ancient
+weary round of ceaseless struggle, unending battle, incessant
+renascence of the sprouting heads of Hydra; to all that from which
+the windless Olympus was a refuge. Hope is presented&mdash;to one who
+has tasted it and who knows that it is futile&mdash;without reawakening,
+under such new conditions as we have here, any zest of adventure.
+The jewel of Pandora may be exhilarating to fallen immortality; it
+has no lustre whatever for a backsliding mortal.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 176 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Sounds of laughter are heard, and steps ascending from the
+shore.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Heracles</span>].</p>
+
+<p>Draw your lion's skin about you less negligently, Heracles; I hear
+visitants approaching. You are not in the woodways of &OElig;ta.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Oceanides</span> <i>rush in
+from the lower woodlands. They are
+carrying torches, and arrive in a condition of the highest
+exhilaration.</i> <span class="smcap">Eros</span> <i>proceeds a step or
+two to meet them, with a smile and a mock reverence</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Heracles</span>, <i>brooding over his knees,
+does not even raise his eyes at their clamorous entry</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Are you proceeding to set our Father Zeus on fire, or do you intend
+to repeat on our unwilling Heracles the rites of canonisation?
+Have a care with those absurd
+
+<!-- Page 177 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>
+flambeaux; you will put all the
+underwood aflame. What are you doing with torches?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Amphitrite.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was Heph&aelig;stus who gave them to us to hold. He is in a cave down
+there by the sea, making the most ingenious things in the darkness.
+He called us in to hold these lights&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Doris.</span></p>
+
+<p>And oh, Eros, we had such fun, teasing him&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pitho.</span></p>
+
+<p>He was quite angry at last&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Amphitrite.</span></p>
+
+<p>And threatened to nail us to the cliff&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 178 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pitho.</span></p>
+
+<p>And off we ran, and left him in the dark.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Doris.</span></p>
+
+<p>He is coming after us. I never felt so frightened.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Amphitrite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I never enjoyed myself anywhere so much.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pitho.</span></p>
+
+<p>Come away, come away! If he is going to pursue, let us give him a
+long chase, and leave him panting at last!</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Oceanides</span>
+<i>escape, in a tumult of laughter, through the
+upper woods, as</i> <span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus</span>, <i>limping
+heavily, and much out of
+breath, appears from below</i>.]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 179 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus.</span></p>
+
+<p>The rogues, the rogues!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>What a cataract of animal spirits! I am afraid, Heph&aelig;stus, that
+you do not escape, even here, from the echoes of the laughter of
+heaven.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles</span> [<i>savagely</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Follow them, and strike them down. Take my club, Heph&aelig;stus, if you
+have lost your hammer.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Strike them! Strike the darling rogues? I would as soon wrap your
+too-celebrated tunic about a little playful marmozet. What is the
+matter with you, Heracles?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>What change, indeed, has come over <i>you</i>,
+
+<!-- Page 180 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+you sulky artificer? Time
+was when your pincers would have met in the flesh of maid or man
+who disturbed you in your work. Have you left your forge to cool
+for the mere pleasure of clambering after these ridiculous
+children! Go back to it, Heph&aelig;stus, go back and be ashamed.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus.</span></p>
+
+<p>You do not seem deeply engaged yourself. You look sourer and idler
+than the lion's head that dangles at your shoulder. The days are
+long here, though not too long. My handicraft will spare me for
+half an hour to sport with these exquisite and affable fragilities.
+I rather enjoy being laughed at. On Olympus I was rarely troubled
+by such teasing attentions. The little ones seem to enjoy
+themselves in their exile, and, to say true, so do I. My work was
+carried on, I admit, much more smoothly and
+
+<!-- Page 181 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
+surely than it can be
+here, and my hand, I am afraid, in crossing the sea, has lost much
+of its infallible cunning. But I enjoy the exercise, and I look
+onward to the art as I never did before, and I seem to have more
+leisure. Can you explain it, Eros?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I do not attempt to do so, but I feel a similar and equally
+surprising serenity. Heracles is insensible to it, it seems, and he
+gives me a sort of reason.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus.</span></p>
+
+<p>What is it?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>Well ... I am not sure that.... Perhaps I ought to leave him to
+explain it.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 182 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>You would not be able to comprehend me. I am not sure that I
+myself&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Two of the</i> <span class="smcap">Oceanides</span>
+<i>re-enter, much more seriously than before,
+and with an eager importance of gesture</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Amphitrite.</span></p>
+
+<p>We are not playing now. We have a message from Zeus, Heph&aelig;stus. He
+says that he is waiting impatiently for the sceptre you are making
+for him.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Doris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, you must hurry back to your cave. And we are longing to see
+what ornament you are putting on the sceptre. Let us come with
+you. We will hold the torches for you as steadily as if we were
+made of marble.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 183 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Come, then, come. Let us descend together. I hope that my science
+has not quitted me. We will see whether even on this rugged shore
+and with these uncouth instruments, I cannot prove to Zeus that I
+am still an artist. Come, I am in a hurry to begin. Give me your
+hands, Amphitrite and Doris.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+[<i>Exeunt.</i>
+</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 184 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 185 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 186 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 187 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_XI" id="Act_XI"></a>XI</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">[<i>The glen, through which the stream, slightly flooded by a night's
+rain, runs faintly turbid.</i> <span class="smcap">Dionysus</span>, <i>earnestly engaged in
+angling, does not hear the approach of</i> <span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span> [<i>in a high, voluble key</i>].</p>
+
+<p>It is not to me but to you, O ruddy son of Semele, that the crowds
+of invalids will throng, if you cultivate this piscatory art so
+eagerly, since to do nothing, serenely, in the open air, without
+becoming fatigued, is to storm the very citadel of ill-health,
+and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus</span> [<i>testily, without turning round</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Hush! hush!... I felt a nibble.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 188 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>
+[<i>in a whisper, flinging himself upon the grass</i>].</p>
+
+<p>It was in such a secluded spot as this that Apollo heard the trout
+at Aroanius sing like thrushes.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>How these poets exaggerate! The trout sang, I suppose, like the
+missel-thrush.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>What song has the missel-thrush?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>It does not sing at all. Nor do trout.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>You are sententious, Dionysus.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 189 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>No, but closely occupied. I am intent on the subtle movements of my
+rod, round which my thoughts and fancies wind and blossom till they
+have made a thyrsus of it. Now, however, I shall certainly catch no
+more fish, and so I may rest and talk to you. Are you searching for
+simples in this glen?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>To tell you the plain truth, I am waiting for Nike. She has given
+me an appointment here.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I have not seen her since we arrived on this island.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>You have seen her, but you have not recognised
+
+<!-- Page 190 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>
+her. She goes about
+in a perpetual incognito. Poor thing, in our flight from Olympus
+she lost all her attributes&mdash;her wings dropped off, her laurel was
+burned, she flung her armour away, and her palm-tree obstinately
+refused to up-root itself.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>No doubt at this moment it is obsequiously rustling over the odious
+usurper.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>It was always rather a poor palm-tree. What Nike misses most are
+her wings. She was excessively dejected when we first arrived, but
+Pallas very kindly allowed her to take care of the jewel for half
+an hour. Nike&mdash;if still hardly recognisable&mdash;is no longer to be
+taken for Niobe.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 191 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus</span> [<i>rising to his feet</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I shall do well, however, to go before she comes.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>By no means. I should prefer your staying. Nike will prefer it,
+too. In the old days she always liked you to be her harbinger.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Not always; sometimes my panthers turned and bit her. But my
+panthers and my vines are gone to keep her laurels and her
+palm-tree company. I think I will not stay, &AElig;sculapius. But what
+does Nike want with you?</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>Slowly and pensively descending from the upper woods</i>,
+<span class="smcap">Nike</span> <i>enters</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I was excusing myself, Nike, to our learned
+
+<!-- Page 192 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
+friend here for not
+having paid my addresses to you earlier. You must have thought me
+negligent?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh! Dionysus, I assure you it is not so. Your temperament is one of
+violent extremes&mdash;you are either sparkling with miraculous rapidity
+of apprehension, or you are sunken in a heavy doze. These have
+doubtless been some of your sleepy days. And I ... oh! I am very
+deeply changed.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>No, not at all. Hardly at all. [<i>He scarcely glances at her, but
+turns to</i> <span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>.] But farewell to both of
+you, for I am going down to the sea-board to watch for dolphins. That long melancholy
+plunge of the black snout thrills me with pleasure. It always did,
+and the
+
+<!-- Page 193 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>
+coast-line here curiously reminds me of Naxos. Be kind to
+&AElig;sculapius, Nike.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>He descends along the water-course, and exit.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Nike</span> <i>smiles sadly, and half holds out her
+arms towards</i> <span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is for you, O brother of Hermes, to be kind to <i>me</i>. How altered
+we all are! Dionysus is not himself.... As I came here, I passed
+below the little grey precipice of limestone&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Where the marchantias grow? Yes?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>And three girls in white dresses, with wreaths of flowers on their
+shoulders, were laughing and chatting there in the shade of the
+great yew-tree. Who do you
+
+<!-- Page 194 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>
+suppose they were, these laughing girls in white?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Perhaps three of the Oceanides, bright as the pure foam of the
+wave?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>&AElig;sculapius, they were not girls. They were the terrible and ancient
+Eumenides, black with the curdled blood of Uranus. They were the
+inexorable Furies, who were wont to fawn about my feet, with the
+adders quivering in their tresses, tormenting me for the spoils of
+victory. What does it mean? Why are they in white? As we came
+hither in the dreadful vessel, they were huddled together at the
+prow, and their long black raiment hung overboard and touched the
+brine. They were mumbling and crooning hate-songs, and pointing
+with skinny fingers to the portents in the sky. What
+
+<!-- Page 195 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>
+is it that has
+changed their mood? What is it that can have turned the robes of
+the Eumenides white, and enamelled their wrinkled flesh with youth?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Is it not because a like strange metamorphosis has invaded your own
+nature that you have come to meet me here?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike</span> [<i>after a pause</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I am bewildered, but I am not unhappy. I come because the secrets
+of life are known to you. I come because it was you whom Zeus sent
+to watch over Cadmus and Harmonia when their dread and comfortable
+change came over them. They were weary with grief and defeat, tired
+of being for ever overwhelmed by the ever-mounting wave of mortal
+fate. I am weary&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 196 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span> [<i>slowly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Of what, Nike? Be true to yourself. Of what are you weary?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>I come to you that you may tell. I know no better than the snake
+knows when his skin withers and bloats. I feel distress,
+apprehension, no pain, a little fear.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>You speak of Cadmus and Harmonia; but is not your case the opposite
+of theirs? They were saved from defeat; is it not your unspoken
+hope to be saved from victory, saved from what was your essential
+self?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>Can it be so? I find, it is true, that I look back upon my rush
+and blaze of battle with no real regret. What a vain thing
+
+<!-- Page 197 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>
+it was,
+the perpetual clash and resonance of a victory that no one could
+withstand; the mockery that conquest must be to an immortal whom no
+one can ever really oppose;&mdash;no veritable difficulty to overcome,
+no genuine resistance to meet, nothing positively tussled with and
+thrown, nothing but ghostly armies shrinking and melting a little
+way in front of my advancing eagles! That can never happen again,
+and even through the pang of losing my laurel and my wings, I did
+not genuinely deplore it. Nothing but the sheer intoxication of my
+immortality had kept me at the pitch. And now that it is gone, oh
+wisest of the gods, it is for you to tell me how, in this mortal
+state, I can remain happy and yet be <i>me</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>You are on the high road to happiness; you
+
+<!-- Page 198 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
+see its towers over the dust, for you dare to know yourself.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>Myself, &AElig;sculapius?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; you have that signal, that culminating courage.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>But it is because I do <i>not</i> know my way that I come to you.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>To recognise the way is one thing, it is much; but to recognise
+yourself is infinitely more, and includes the way.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! I see. I think I partly see. The element of real victory was
+absent where no defeat could be.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 199 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius</span> [<i>eagerly</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Dismal, sooty, raven-coloured robes of the Eumenides!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>And it may be present even where no final conquest can ensue?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! how white they grow! How the serpents drop out of their
+tresses.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>I am feeling forward with my finger-tips, like a blind woman
+searching.... And the real splendour of victory may consist in the
+helpless mortal state; may blossom there, while it only budded in
+our immortality?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">&AElig;sculapius.</span></p>
+
+<p>May consist, really, of the effort, the desire,
+
+<!-- Page 200 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
+the act of
+gathering up the will to make the plunge. This will be victory now,
+it will be the drawing of the bow-string and not the mere
+cessation of the arrow-flight.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 201 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>
+
+<!-- Page 202 -->
+<span class="nopagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 203 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Act_XII" id="Act_XII"></a>XII</h2>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The main terrace, soon after dawn. In the centre</i>
+<span class="smcap">Zeus</span> <i>sits
+alone, throned and silent. One by one the Gods come out of the
+house, and arrange themselves in a semicircle, to the left and
+right, each as he passes making obeisance to</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>.
+<i>It is a perfectly still morning, and a dense white mist hangs over the
+woods, completely hiding the sea and the farther shore. When all
+are seated.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>in a very slow voice</i>].</p>
+
+<p>My children, since we came here I have not been visited until
+to-night by even a shadow of those forebodings which, in the form
+of divine prescience, illuminated
+
+<!-- Page 204 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>
+my plans and your fortunes in
+Olympus. [<i>A pause, while the gods lean towards him in deepest
+attention.</i>] But a dream came close to my pillow last night and
+whispered to me strange, disquieting words.... I have no longer the
+art of clairvoyance, but I find I am not wholly dark. Still can I
+faintly divine the forms of the future, as we may all divine the
+roll of the woods before us, and the cleft which leads down to the
+shore, although this impalpable vapour shrouds our world.... And,
+from the dream, or from my faint perceptions, I am made aware that
+another mighty change is approaching us.</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+[<i>A silence.</i>]
+</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heracles.</span></p>
+
+<p>Can you indicate to us the nature of this change? [<i>Looking round
+the semicircle.</i>] If it is permitted to us to do so we would
+repudiate
+
+<!-- Page 205 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>
+it. [<i>The gods in silence signify their assent.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>not replying to</i> <span class="smcap">Heracles</span>].</p>
+
+<p>When we fled hither from the consuming malignity of the traitor, it
+was communicated to me that this island on the very uttermost
+border of the world was left us as a home from which we should
+never be dislodged. Here we were to dwell in peace, and here ... to
+grow old, and ... die. Here, in the meantime, new interests, humble
+wishes, cheerful curiosities have already twined about us, and we
+have gazed upon Pandora's jewel, and are no more the same.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Persephone.</span></p>
+
+<p>Are we to be driven hence still farther towards the confines of
+immensity, father?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 206 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I know not.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos.</span></p>
+
+<p>More journeys, more weary, weary journeys?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I know but what I tell you ... that I foresee a change. [<i>A
+silence.</i>] How breathless is the air. Not the outline of a leaf is
+shaken against the sky.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>But the mist grows thinner, and high up in it I see a faint
+blueness.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>I do not&mdash;nothing but the bewildering woolly whiteness, that chills
+my eyeballs.... [<i>With a sudden vivacity.</i>] Ah! yes ... it is the
+sea! Is Poseidon here?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 207 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>I went down to the shore very early indeed this morning, before
+there was an atom of mist in the air. I called upon the glassy,
+oily sea, and I could not but fancy that, although there was little
+motion in the wave, it did roll faintly to my foot, and fawn at me
+in its reply. To me also, father, it seemed as though my element
+was burdened with a secret which it knew not how to convey to me.</p>
+
+<p class="left">[<i>A silence.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>aside to</i> <span class="smcap">Pallas</span>].</p>
+
+<p>If we must be driven forth again, let us at least cling to such new
+gifts as we have secured here.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas</span> [<i>in an eager whisper</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I should like to know what you consider them to be. Do you hold
+introspection as one of them?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 208 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite.</span></p>
+
+<p>I certainly do. The analysis of one's own feelings, and the sense
+of watching the fluctuating symptoms of one's individuality, form
+one of the principal consolations of our mortal state.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I think I should give it another name.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes</span> [<i>who has come up behind them, and bending forward has
+overheard the conversation</i>].</p>
+
+<p>My name for it would be the indulgence of personal vanity.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>speaks louder, while the conversation becomes general,
+except that</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span> <i>takes no part in it</i>].</p>
+
+<p>You may call it so, if you please, but it is a source of genuine
+pleasure to us.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 209 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ignorance is doubtless another of these consolations&mdash;ignorance
+chemically modified by a few drops of the desire for knowledge....
+[<i>Enthusiastically.</i>] And all the chastened forms of recollection,
+how delightful they are, and how they add to our satisfaction here!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>It would be interesting to me to understand what you mean by
+chastened forms of recollection. I don't think that is my
+experience.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>I conceive memory as a pure, unbiased emotion, an image of past
+life cast upon an unflawed mirror. Why do you say "chastened"?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>That memory which is nothing but a plain
+
+<!-- Page 210 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>
+reproduction on the mirror
+of the mind is a tame concern, Pallas. It transfers, without
+modification, all that is dull, and squalid, and unessential. The
+only memory which is worthy of those who have tasted immortality is
+that which has in some degree been fortified. To recollect with
+enjoyment is to select certain salient facts from an experience and
+to be oblivious of the rest; or else it is to heighten the exciting
+elements of an event out of all proportion with historic fact; or
+it even is to place what should be in the seat of what precisely
+was.... But this must be done firmly, logically, with no timidity
+in reminiscence, so that the mind shall rest in a perfectly
+artistic conviction that what it recollects is all the truth and
+nothing but the truth. This is chastened, or, if you prefer it,
+civilised memory. But Zeus is about to speak.</p>
+
+<div>
+<!-- Page 211 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>The Gods resume their seats in silence.</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>
+<i>rises from his throne, and the Gods perceive that the mist has now almost entirely
+evaporated around them, and that the entire scene is luminous with
+morning radiance. All the Gods lean forward to gaze on</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>,
+<i>who gazes over and beyond them to the sea</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>The whole bay heaves in one vast wave of unbroken pearl.... And in
+the east something flashes ... something moves ... approaches.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>All the Gods, except</i> <span class="smcap">Kronos</span>
+<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Rhea</span>, <i>rise and follow with
+their gaze the extended hand of</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Poseidon</span> <i>steps forward to
+the front of the scene and shouts</i>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Poseidon.</span></p>
+
+<p>See! Three huge white ships are coming out of the east, and the
+waves glide
+
+<!-- Page 212 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>
+away at their wake in widening glassy hues. How they
+speed! How they speed, without oar or sail!</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Kronos.</span></p>
+
+<p>No rest, no sleep for us. Leave us here behind you, Zeus. We never
+have any rest.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Rhea.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; do not drag us farther in the wearisome train of your
+misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span> [<i>benignly, turning to them.</i>]</p>
+
+<p>Be not afraid, Rhea and Kronos. But we must not abandon you. For
+the old sakes' sake we will hold together to the end.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ares.</span></p>
+
+<p>Shall we not collect our forces in unison, mortal as they are, and
+die together in resisting this invasion?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 213 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Dionysus.</span></p>
+
+<p>The kind barbarians are with us. They will fight at our side.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Heph&aelig;stus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, let us fight and die.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>You have no forces to collect, my sons. We cannot take toll of the
+blood of the barbarians. We cannot resist, we can but submit and
+withdraw.... The ships fleet closer. They are like monstrous fishes
+of living silver. I confess this is not what I anticipated. This is
+not what my faint dream seemed to indicate. What inspires the
+implacable destroyer to pursue us, and with this imposing and
+miraculous navy, to the shore of that harmless exile in which we
+were endeavouring to forget his existence, I know not. But let us
+at least preserve that dignity which
+
+<!-- Page 214 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>
+has survived our deity.
+Whatever may be now in store for us&mdash;if the worst of all things be
+now hurrying to complete our annihilation&mdash;let us meet it with
+simplicity. Let us meet it with an even mind.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Oh, see! what are those filaments of blue and violet and grassy
+green which flutter in the cordage of the three ships?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>They leap forward, though no wind is blowing.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>They are arranged in order, and they bend upwards and now outwards.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hera.</span></p>
+
+<p>The colours of them are those which adorn my bird.</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 215 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ah! wonder of wonders! These have joined one another, see, and now
+they shoot forward together in a vibrating ribband of delicious
+lustre, and now it is arched to our shore, and descends at the
+lowest of these our woodland stairs.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>A vast rainbow from the three white vessels to this island!... And
+behold, a figure steps from it. She is robed to the feet in palest
+watchet blue, and her face is like a rosy star, and she waves her
+violet wings in the incommunicable speed of her ascent. My
+children, it is Iris, our lost daughter, our ineffable messenger.
+Let us await in silence the tidings which she brings.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Zeus</span> <i>seats himself, and
+the Gods take their places as before.
+The air is now translucent, the sky cloudless, while
+
+<!-- Page 216 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+the beechwoods
+flash with the lustre of dew, and the sea beyond the white ships is
+like a floor of turquoise.</i> <span class="smcap">Iris</span> <i>is seen
+to rise from the shore, through the gorge in the woods. She approaches, half
+flying, half climbing, with incredible velocity. She appears, in her splendour,
+at the top of the stairs, and looks round upon the Gods. Without
+exception, in the magnificence of her presence they look grey and
+old and dim. She hesitates a moment, and then kneels before the
+throne of</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span>.]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Iris.</span></p>
+
+<p>Father and lawgiver! Imperial Master of Heaven! The rebellion in
+Olympus is over. The usurper has fallen under the weight of his
+own presumption, lower
+
+<!-- Page 217 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>
+than the lowest chasms of Hades, chained for
+all eternity by the fetters of his own insolence and madness. It is
+not needful for you, Zeus, to punish or to be clement. Under the
+inevitable rebound of his impious frenzy, himself has sealed his
+doom for ever and ever. It is now for the Father of Heaven, and
+these his children, to resume their immortality and to regain their
+incomparable abodes. Be it my reward for the joyous labour of
+bringing the good news, to be the first to kiss these awful and
+eternal feet.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Iris</span> <i>flings herself before</i>
+<span class="smcap">Zeus</span> <i>in adoration, and folds her
+wings about her face. As she touches him, his deity blazes forth
+from him. When</i> <span class="smcap">Iris</span> <i>rises again, she glances
+round at the Gods with gratified astonishment, for all of them have become brilliant
+and young</i>.]</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 218 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Zeus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Lead the way, Iris. This is no longer a place for us. Lead on and
+we will follow. Lead on, that we may resume our immortality.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<span class="smcap">Iris</span> <i>flies down to the sea,
+and</i> <span class="smcap">Zeus</span> <i>descends the steps. He is
+followed by all the other deities.</i>]</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Circe.</span></p>
+
+<p>Were we really happy among these trees? I can scarcely credit it,
+they seem so common and so frail.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Nike.</span></p>
+
+<p>Ha, my palm and my laurel and my wings. How can I have breathed
+without them for an hour?</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Aphrodite</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Eros</span>].</p>
+
+<p>Shall we recollect this little episode when we walk up the golden
+street presently to our houses?</p>
+
+<div>
+
+<!-- Page 219 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Eros.</span></p>
+
+<p>I cannot think so, mother. That refinement of memory of which
+Ph&oelig;bus was speaking will seem the most ridiculous of illusions
+there.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Ph&oelig;bus.</span></p>
+
+<p>Yes; to cultivate illusion, to live in the past, to resuscitate
+experience, may be the amusements of mortality, but they mean
+nothing now to us. When Selene re-enters her orb, she will not
+disquiet herself about the disorders of its interregnum.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas</span> [<i>hastily reascending</i>].</p>
+
+<p>I have left Pandora's jewel behind me. I must fetch it.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes</span> [<i>the last to descend</i>].</p>
+
+<p>Let me confess that I took it from you. One of the barbarians was
+weeping, and
+
+<!-- Page 220 -->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
+I wished, I cannot tell why, to see her smile. I gave
+your jewel to her.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Pallas.</span></p>
+
+<p>It is of no moment. It would be an inconspicuous ornament in that
+blaze of the heart's beauty to which the white ships are about to
+carry us.</p>
+
+<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Hermes.</span></p>
+
+<p>Come, then, Pallas, and let us linger here no more.</p>
+
+<p class="hangind">[<i>They descend and disappear.</i>]</p>
+
+<hr class="bigspacer" />
+
+<div class="center size75">
+THE END.
+<hr class="spacer" />
+Printed by<br />
+<span class="smcap">Ballantyne, Hanson &amp; Co.</span><br />
+London &amp; Edinburgh
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div class="tnote">
+<h3>Transcriber's Note</h3>
+
+<p>Variant spellings in this ebook have been retained to match the
+original document.</p>
+
+<p>The use of an ae-ligature in the name 'Heph&aelig;stus' has been
+regularized. The oe-ligature is represented by 'oe' in the text
+version of this ebook, and retains the oe-ligature in the HTML
+version. Ellipses have been regularized.</p>
+
+<p>The original text contained duplicate headers for Acts; these
+duplications have been omitted in this ebook.</p>
+
+<p>The following typographical corrections were made to this text:</p>
+
+<div>
+<table class="tntable" summary="Transcriber's Note">
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_16">Page 16</a>:</td><td class="col2">Added missing period (EROS.)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_16">Page 16</a>:</td><td class="col2">Changed em-dash to long dash to match style of text</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_16">Page 16</a>:</td><td class="col2">Changed casket to caskets (all the empty caskets)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_28">Page 28</a>:</td><td class="col2">Added missing comma (he answered, "Pray don't)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_101">Page 101</a>:</td><td class="col2">Changed 'o' to 'of' (It is kind of)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_132">Page 132</a>:</td><td class="col2">Added missing period (CHLORIS.)</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1"><a href="#Page_140">Page 140</a>:</td><td class="col2">Changed 'o' to 'of' (degradation, instead of)</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hypolympia, by Edmund Gosse
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Hypolympia
+       Or, The Gods in the Island, an Ironic Fantasy
+
+
+Author: Edmund Gosse
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 7, 2009  [eBook #28270]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HYPOLYMPIA***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Bryan Ness, C. St. Charleskindt, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+  _Verse by the Same Author_
+
+    ON VIOL AND FLUTE
+    KING ERIK
+    FERDAUSI IN EXILE
+    IN RUSSET AND SILVER
+
+
+
+HYPOLYMPIA
+
+Or
+
+The Gods in the Island
+
+_An Ironic Fantasy_
+
+by
+
+EDMUND GOSSE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+William Heinemann
+1901
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+_The scene of this fantasy is an island, hitherto inhabited by
+Lutherans, in a remote but temperate province of Northern Europe.
+The persons are the Gods of Ancient Greece. The time is early in
+the Twentieth Century._
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+[_A terrace high above the sea, which is seen far below, through
+    vast masses of woodland. Steps lead down towards the water, from
+    the centre of the scene. To the left, a large, low country-house,
+    of unpretentious character, in the style of the late eighteenth
+    century. Gardens belonging to the same period, and now somewhat
+    neglected and overgrown, stretch on either side. The edge of the
+    terrace is marked by a stone balustrade, with a stone seat running
+    round it within. At the top of steps, ascending, appear_ APHRODITE
+    _and_ EROS.]
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+A moment, Eros. Let us sit here. What can this flutter at my girdle
+be? I breathe with difficulty. Oh! Eros, can this be death?
+
+EROS.
+
+Death? Ah! no; you have roses in your cheeks, mother. Your lips are
+like blood.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+It must be weariness. Ever these new sensations, these odd,
+exciting apprehensions! This must be mortality. I never breathed
+the faster as I rose from terrace to terrace in Cythera.
+
+EROS.
+
+Yet this is like Cythera--a little like it. [_Looking round._] It
+is not the least like it. These round billowy woods, that grey
+strip of sea far below, the long smooth land with square yellow
+fields and pointed brown fields, and the wild grey sky above. No;
+it would be impossible for anything to be less like Cythera.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Yet it is like it. [_Gazing round._] How strange ... to be where
+everything is not azure and gold and white--white land, gold houses
+and blue sky and sea. What are these woods, Eros?
+
+EROS.
+
+Are they beech-woods?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I did not think that I could ever be happy again. I am not _happy_.
+But I am not miserable. Now that my heart is quiet again, I am not
+miserable. Oh! that sick tossing on the black sea, the nausea, the
+aching, the dulness; that I, who sprang from the waves, could come
+to hate them so. We will never venture on the sea, again?
+
+EROS.
+
+Then must we stay for ever here, since this is an island.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Yes, here for ever. For ever? We have no "for ever" now, Eros.
+
+    [_Enter, from the house_, CYDIPPE.]
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Is all prepared for us, Cydippe?
+
+CYDIPPE.
+
+I have done my best. The barbarian people are kind and clean. They
+have blue eyes. There is one, with marigold curls and a crisp
+beard, who has brought up water and logs of wood. There are two
+maidens, with hair like a wheat-field and rough red fingers. There
+are others.... I know not. All seem civil and frightened. But your
+Majesty will be wretched.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+No, Cydippe, I think I shall be happy.
+
+EROS [_walking to the parapet, and looking down_].
+
+Our white ship still lies there, mother. Shall we start again?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+On that leaden water, with the little cruel breakers like coriander
+seeds? Never. And whither should we go, Eros? We have lost our
+golden home, our only home. We have lost the old white world of
+empire; any grey corner of the world of stillness is good enough
+for us. I will eat, and lie down, and rest without that long,
+awful heave of the intolerable ocean. Which way, Cydippe?
+
+    [APHRODITE _and_ CYDIPPE _enter the house_.]
+
+EROS [_alone_].
+
+This little milk-white flower, with the drop of wine in it.... It
+is like the grass that grows on the slopes of Parnassus. It is the
+only home-like thing here. Can that be grey wool that hangs in the
+sky, and droops like a curtain over the opposite hills? How cold
+the air is! Ah! it is raining over in the other island, and the
+brown fields grow like the yellow fields, melt into a mere white
+mist behind the slate-coloured sea. Here is one of the barbarians.
+
+    [POSEIDON _slowly appears at the top of the steps_.]
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+Ah, you here alone, Eros?
+
+EROS [_aside_].
+
+It is Poseidon! How old and bluff he looks! [_To_ POSEIDON.] My
+mother is within. [_Smiling._] She was angry with you, Poseidon,
+but her anger is fallen.
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+Adversity brings us all together. It was once I who burned with
+anger against her. Why was she angry?
+
+EROS.
+
+The cruelty of your sea; it shook and sickened her.
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+It once was her sea, too. Now it is not even mine.... Rebellion
+everywhere, everywhere the servant risen against the master,
+everywhere our spells and portents broken. I rule the sea still,
+but it is as a man holds in a wild horse with a hard rein: it obeys
+with hatred, it would obey not one moment after the master's hand
+was withdrawn.
+
+EROS.
+
+How cold it is. But I am not disconsolate. Nor should you be,
+Poseidon, for you will have the sea to occupy your thoughts.
+Hephaestus will help you to break it in. He at least should be
+consoled, for in our fallen estate his magical ingenuity will
+employ his brain.
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+We have never needed to be ingenious. It has been enough for us
+to command, to wield the elements like weapons, to say it shall
+be and to see it is.
+
+EROS.
+
+To see it is not, and yet to make it be, perhaps this may be a joy
+in store for us. For Hephaestus, certainly; for you, if you are
+wise; but for me, ah! what will there be? My arrows break against
+old hearts, and now we all are old.
+
+    [PALLAS ATHENE _comes rapidly down the steps from the house
+        and speaks while still behind_ EROS.]
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I have brought with me the box which Epimetheus made for Pandora.
+
+EROS [_turning suddenly_].
+
+Ah! Pallas! What, you have brought that ivory box with you? Why
+did you burden your hands with that?
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I snatched it from the burning palace. There is something strange at
+the bottom of it--something like an opal, with a violet flame in it.
+
+EROS.
+
+Alas! we have no great need of jewels here. This shining beech-leaf
+is the treasure you should wear, Pallas. See, a little bough of it,
+bent just above the white enamel of your forehead. It will be as
+green as a beryl to-day, and red like copper to-morrow, and perhaps
+you will need no third adornment.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+There is something in the carven box which the shrieking oracle
+commended to me. "Take this," it said, "take this, and it will turn
+the blackness of exile into living light."
+
+EROS.
+
+Poor oracle, it became mad before it became dumb.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I was the only one of us all, Eros, who anticipated this change.
+High up above the glaciers of Olympus, where the warm crystal shone
+like ice, and the faint cumuli rained jasmine on us, and the blue
+light was like the cold acid of a fruit, in the midst of our
+incomparable felicity I pondered on the vicissitude of things.
+
+EROS.
+
+You only, I remember, ever heeded the foolish screaming oracle
+that moaned for mortals. You always had something of the mortal
+temperament, Pallas. It jarred upon my mother that you seem to
+shudder even at the voluptuous turmoil of the senses. She said
+you always looked old. You look younger now than she does,
+Pallas.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I am neither old nor young. I know not what I am. But this grey
+colour and those blowing woods are not unpleasing to me. I can
+be _myself_, even here, on a beech-wood peak in the cold sea.
+
+    [_Enter up the steps_ ZEUS, _leaning heavily on_ GANYMEDE,
+        _and attended by many other Gods_.]
+
+EROS, POSEIDON, _and_ PALLAS.
+
+Hail! father and king!
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I can push on no farther. Why have I brought you here? [_Gazing
+round._] Nay, it is you who have brought me here. [_He moves up the
+scene._] I have a demon in my legs, that swells them, breaks them,
+crushes me down. [_To_ GANYMEDE.] You are careless; stiffen your
+shoulder, it slopes like a woman's. I have lost my thunderbolt, I
+have lost everything. Shall I be _bound_ upon this muddy, slippery
+rock? What is that horror in the sky?
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+It is some dark bird of the north; it seeks a prey in the
+woodlands.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I think it is a vulture. My eagle fled from me when the rebel
+whistled to it. It perched beside him, and smoothed its crest
+against his elbow. All have left me, even my eagle.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Father, we have not left you. We are about you here. One by one the
+alleys of the beech-wood will open, and one after one we shall all
+gather here, all your children, all the Olympians.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+But where is Olympus? I hardly know you. [_Gazing blankly about
+him._] Are you my children? You [_to_ PALLAS] gaze at me with eyes
+like those I hated most.
+
+EROS.
+
+Whose eyes, father and king?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I will not say. Are you sure [_to_ POSEIDON] that is not a vulture?
+I am torn, see, here under my beard, by a thorn. I can feel pain at
+last, _I_, who could only inflict it.
+
+EROS.
+
+Pallas has something in a box----
+
+ZEUS [_vehemently_].
+
+There is nothing in any box, there is nothing in any island, there
+is nothing in all the empty caskets of this world which can give
+me any happiness. Is it in this shanty that we must live? Lead me
+on, Ganymede, lead me on into it, that I may sink down and sleep.
+Walk slowly and walk steadily, wretched boy.
+
+    [_He passes into the house, followed by all the others._]
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+[_The terrace as before. Early morning, with warm sunshine. Enter_
+    CIRCE, _very carefully helping_ KRONOS _down the steps of the
+    house_. RHEA _follows, leaning on a staff_. CIRCE _places_ KRONOS
+    _in one throne, and sees_ RHEA _comfortably settled in another.
+    Then she sits on the ground between them, at_ RHEA'S _knees_.]
+
+CIRCE.
+
+There! We are all comfortable now. How did Kronos sleep, Rhea?
+
+RHEA.
+
+He has not complained this morning. [_Raising her voice._] Did
+you sleep, Kronos?
+
+KRONOS [_vaguely_].
+
+Yes, oh yes! I always sleep. Why should I not sleep?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+These new arrangements--I was afraid they might disturb you.
+
+RHEA [_to_ CIRCE].
+
+He notices very little. I do not think he recollects that there has
+been any change. Already he forgets Olympus. [_After a pause._] It
+is very thoughtful of you, Circe, to take so much trouble about us.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I have been anxious about you both. All the rest of us ought to be
+able to console ourselves, but I am afraid that you will find it
+very difficult to live in the new way.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Kronos will soon have forgotten that there was an old way; and as
+for me, Circe, I have seen so much and wandered in so many places,
+that one is as another to me.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+Is it Zeus who has driven us forth?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Oh no! Zeus has led us hither. It was he who was attacked, it was
+against him that the rage of the enemy was directed.
+
+KRONOS [_to himself_].
+
+He let me stay where I was. We were not driven forth before, Rhea,
+were we? When I saw that it was hopeless, I did not struggle; I
+rose and took you by the hand....
+
+RHEA.
+
+Yes; and we went half-way down the steps of the throne together....
+
+KRONOS [_very excitedly_].
+
+And we bowed to Zeus....
+
+RHEA.
+
+And he walked forward as if he did not see us....
+
+KRONOS.
+
+And then we came down, and I [_all his excitement falls from him_]
+I cannot quite remember. Did he strike us, Rhea?
+
+RHEA.
+
+Oh! no, no! He swept straight on, and did not so much as seem to
+see us, and in a moment he was up in the throne, and all the gods,
+the new and the old, were bowing to him with acclamation.
+
+CIRCE [_looking up at_ RHEA, _with eager sympathy_].
+
+What did _you_ do, you poor dears?
+
+RHEA [_after a pause_].
+
+We did nothing.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+Zeus let us stay then. Why has he driven us out now?
+
+RHEA [_aside_].
+
+He does not understand, Circe. It is very sweet of you to be so
+kind to us, but you must go back now to your young companions.
+Who is here?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I think we are all here, or nearly all. I have not seen Iris, but
+surely all the rest are here.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Is Zeus very much disturbed? On the ship I heard Aeolus say that
+it was impossible to go near him, he was so unreasonably angry.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Yes, he thought that our miseries were all the fault of Poseidon
+and Aeolus. But mortality will make a great change in Zeus; I think
+perhaps a greater change than in any of us. He has eaten a very
+substantial breakfast. Aesculapius says that as Zeus has hitherto
+considered the quality of his food so much, it is probable that
+in these lower conditions it may prove to be quantity which will
+interest him most. He was greatly pleased with a curious kind of
+aromatic tube which Hermes invented for him this morning.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Does Zeus blow down it?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+No; he puts fire to one end of it, and draws in the vapour. He is
+delighted. How clever Hermes is, is he not, Rhea? What shall you
+do here?
+
+RHEA.
+
+I must look after Kronos, of course. But he gives me no trouble.
+And I do not need to do much more. I am very tired, Circe. I was
+tired in my immortality. When Kronos and I were young, things were
+so very different in Olympus.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+How were they different? Do tell me what happened. I have always
+longed to know, but it was not considered quite nice, quite
+respectful to Zeus, for us to ask questions about the Golden Age.
+But now it cannot matter; can it, Rhea?
+
+RHEA [_after a pause_].
+
+The fact is that when I look back, I cannot see very plainly any
+longer. Do you know, Circe, that after the younger Gods invaded
+Heaven, although Zeus was very good-natured to us, and let us go
+on as deities, something of our god-head passed away?
+
+KRONOS [_aloud, to himself_].
+
+I said to him, "If I am unwelcome, I can go." And he answered,
+"Pray don't discommode yourself." Just like that; very politely,
+"Don't discommode yourself." And now he drives us away after all.
+
+CIRCE [_flinging herself over to_ KRONOS' _knees_].
+
+Oh! Kronos, he does not drive you away! It is not he. It is our
+new enemies, not of our own race, that have driven us. And we are
+all here--Pallas, Ares, Phoebus--we are all here. You like Hermes,
+do you not, Kronos? Well, Hermes is here, and he will amuse you.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+I thought that Zeus had forgiven us. But never mind, never mind!
+
+RHEA.
+
+We are tired, Circe. And what does the new life matter to us now?
+The old life had run low, and we had long been prepared for
+mortality by the poverty of our immortality.
+
+    [_Enter_ HERMES _running_.]
+
+HERMES [_in reply to a gesture of_ CIRCE].
+
+I cannot stay. I am trying to rouse Demeter from her dreadful state
+of depression. She sits in the palace heaving deep sighs, and doing
+absolutely nothing else. It will affect her heart, Aesculapius say.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+She has always been so closely wedded to the study of agriculture,
+and now....
+
+HERMES.
+
+Precisely. And it has occurred to me that the way to rouse her
+will be to send Persephone to her in a little country cart I have
+discovered. I have two mouse-coloured ponies already caught and
+harnessed--such little beauties. The only thing left to do is to
+search for Persephone.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I will find her in a moment. [_Exit._]
+
+RHEA.
+
+We hear that you have already invented a means of amusing Zeus,
+Hermes? Is he prepared to forget his thunderbolt?
+
+HERMES.
+
+He has mentioned it only twice this morning, and I have set
+Hephaestus to work to make him another, of yew-tree wood. It will
+be less incommodious, more fitted to this place, and in a very
+short time Zeus will forget the original.
+
+KRONOS [_loudly, to himself_].
+
+Zeus gave me an orb and sceptre to console me. I used to play cup
+and ball with them behind his throne.
+
+RHEA [_in a solicitous aside to_ HERMES].
+
+Oh! it is not true. Kronos' mind now wanders so strangely. He
+thinks that it is Zeus who has turned him out of Olympus.
+
+HERMES [_in the same tone_].
+
+Do not distress him, Rhea, by contradiction and explanation. I will
+find modes of amusing him a little every day, and, for the rest,
+let him doze in the sunshine. His mind is worn so smooth that it
+fails any longer to catch in ideas as they flit against it. They
+pass off, glide away. It is useless, Rhea, to torment Kronos.
+
+RHEA.
+
+I shall watch him, all day long. For I, too, am weary. Do not
+propose to me, with your restless energy, any fresh interests. Let
+me sit, with my cold hands folded in my lap, and look at Kronos,
+nodding, nodding. It is very kind of Circe, but we are too old for
+love; and of you, but we are too old for amusement. Let us rest,
+Hermes, rest and sleep; perhaps dream a little, dream of the
+far-away past.
+
+    [CIRCE _and_ PERSEPHONE _enter from the left_.]
+
+PERSEPHONE [_to_ HERMES].
+
+My mother requires so much activity of mind and body. You must not
+believe that I was neglecting her. But I went forth in despair this
+morning to see what I could invent, adapt, discover, as a means
+of rousing her. I am stupid, I could think of nothing. I wandered
+through the woods, down the glen, along the sea-shore, up the side
+of the tarn and of the marsh, but I could think of nothing.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+And when I found Persephone she was lying, flung out among the
+flowers, with bees and butterflies leaping round her in the
+sunshine, and the beech-leaves singing their faint song of peace.
+It was beautiful, it was like Enna--with, ah! such a difference.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Circe does not tell you that I was so foolish as to be in tears.
+But now it seems that you have invented an occupation for Ceres?
+You are so divinely ingenious.
+
+HERMES.
+
+I hope it may be successful.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Tell me what it is.
+
+HERMES.
+
+I have found at the back of the palace a small rural waggon, and
+I have caught two ponies, with coats like grey velvet, and great
+antelopes' eyes--dear little creatures. I have harnessed them, and
+now I want you to sit in this cart, while I am dressed like some
+herdsman of these barbarians, and lead the ponies, and we will go
+together to coax Demeter out into the fields.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Oh! Hermes, how splendid of you. Let us fly to carry out your plan.
+Circe, will you not come with us?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Or shall I not rather go to prepare the mind of Demeter for an
+agreeable surprise? Shall you be happy by yourselves, Kronos and
+Rhea?
+
+RHEA.
+
+Quite happy, for we desire to sleep.
+
+    [_Exit_ CIRCE _to right_, HERMES _and_ PERSEPHONE _to left_.]
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+[_A ring of turf, in a hollow of the slope, surrounded by beech-trees,
+    except on one side, where a marsh descends to a small tarn. Over
+    the latter is rising the harvest moon._ PHOEBUS APOLLO _alone;
+    he watches the luminary for a long time in silence_.]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+  Selene! sister!--since that tawny shell,
+  Stained by thy tears and hollowed by thy sighs,
+  Recalls thee still to mind--dost thou regard,
+  From some tumultuous covert of this woodland,
+  Thy whilom sphere and palace? Nun of the skies,
+  In coy virginity of pulse, thy hands
+  Repelled me when I sought to win thy lair,
+  Fraternal, with no thoughts but humorous ones;
+  And in thy chill revulsion, through thy skies,
+  At my advance thy crystal home would fade,
+  A ghost, a shadow, a film, a papery dream.
+  Thou and thy moon were one. What is it now,
+  Thy phantom paradise of gorgeous pearl,
+  With sibilant streams and palmy tier on tier
+  Of wind-bewhitened foliage? Still it floats,
+  As when thy congregated harps and viols
+  Beat slow harmonious progress, light on light,
+  Across our stainless canopy of heaven.
+  Ah! but how changed, Selene! If thy form
+  Crouches among these harsher herbs, O turn
+  Thy withering face away, and press thine eyes
+  To darkness in the strings of dusty heather,
+  Since that loose globe of orange pallor totters,
+  Racked with the fires of anarchy, and sheds
+  The embers of thy glory; and the cradles
+  Of thy imperial maidenhood are foul
+  With sulphur and the craterous ash of hell.
+  O gaze not, sister, on the loathsome wreck
+  Of what was once thy moon. Yet, if thou must
+  With tear-fed eyes visit thine ancient realm,
+  Bend down until the fringe of thy faint lids
+  Hides all save what is in this tarn reflected--
+  Cold, pallid, swimming in the lustrous pool,
+  There only worthy of thy clear regard,
+  A vision purified in woe.
+
+    [_The reeds in the tarn are stirred, and there is audible a faint
+        shriek and a ripple of laughter. A shrouded figure rises from
+        the marsh, and, hastening by_ PHOEBUS _through the darkness,
+        is lost in the woods. It is followed closely by_ PAN, _who,
+        observing_ PHOEBUS, _pauses in embarrassment_.]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+I thought I was alone.
+
+PAN.
+
+And so did we, sire.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Am I to congratulate you on your distractions?
+
+PAN.
+
+I have a natural inclination to marshy places.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+This is a ghastly night, Pan.
+
+PAN.
+
+I had not observed it, sire. Yes, doubtless a ghastly night.
+But I was occupied, and I am no naturalist. This glen curiously
+reminded me of rushy Ladon. I am a great student of reeds, and
+I was agreeably surprised to find some very striking specimens
+here--worthy of the Arcadian watercourses, as I am a deity. I
+should say, _was_ a deity.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+They will help, perhaps, to reconcile you to mortality. You can
+add them to your collection.
+
+PAN.
+
+That, sire, is my hope. The stems are particularly full and smooth,
+and the heads of the best of them rustle back with a profusion of
+flaxen flowerage, remarkably agreeable to the touch. I broke one as
+your Highness approached. But the wind, or some goblin, bore it
+from me. This curious place seems full of earth-spirits.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+You must study them, too, Pan. That will supply you with another
+object.
+
+PAN.
+
+But the marsh water has a property unknown to the Olympian springs.
+I suspect it of being poisoned. After standing long in it, I found
+myself troubled with aching in the shank, from knee to hoof. If
+this is repeated, my studies of reed-life will be made dolorously
+difficult.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+It must now be part of your pleasure to husband your enjoyments.
+You have always rolled in the twinkle of the vine-leaves, hot
+enough and not too hot, with grapes--immense musky clusters--just
+within your reach. If you think of it philosophically----
+
+PAN.
+
+How, sire?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Philosophically.... Well, if you think of it sensibly, you will
+see that there was a certain dreariness in this uniformity of
+satisfaction. Rather amusing, surely, to find the cluster
+occasionally spring up out of reach, to find the polished waist
+of the reed slip from your hands? Occasionally, of course; just
+enough to give a zest to pursuit.
+
+PAN.
+
+Ah! there was pursuit in Ladon, but it was pursuit which always
+closed easily in capture. What I am afraid of is that here capture
+may prove the exception. Your Highness ... but a slight family
+connection and our adversities are making me strangely familiar....
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Speak on, my good Pan.
+
+PAN.
+
+Your Highness was once something of a botanist?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+A botanist? Ah, scarcely! A little arboriculture, the laurel; a
+little horticulture, the sun-flower. Those varieties seem entirely
+absent here, and I have no thought of replacing them.
+
+PAN.
+
+The last thing I should dream of suggesting would be a _hortus
+siccus_....
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+And I was never a consistent collector. There are reeds everywhere,
+you fortunate goat-foot, but even in Olympus I was the creature of
+a fastidious selection.
+
+PAN.
+
+The current of the thick and punctual blood never left me liable
+to the distractions of choice.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+I congratulate you, Pan, upon your temperament, and I recommend
+to you a further pursuit of the attainable.
+
+    [PAN _makes a profound obeisance and disappears in the woodland_.
+        PHOEBUS _watches him depart, and then turns to the moon_.]
+
+PHOEBUS [_alone_].
+
+His familiarity was not distasteful to me. It reminded me of days
+out hunting, when I have come suddenly upon him at the edge of the
+watercourse, and have shared his melons and his conversation. I
+anticipate for him some not unagreeable experiences. The lower
+order of divinities will probably adapt themselves with ease
+to our new conditions. They despaired the most suddenly, with
+wringing of hands as we raced to the sea, with interminable
+babblings and low moans and screams, as they clustered on the deck
+of that extraordinary vessel. But the science of our new life must
+be to forget or to remember. We must live in the past or forego
+the past. For Pan and his likes I conceive that it will largely
+resolve itself into a question of temperature--of temperature and
+of appetite. That orb is of a sinister appearance, but to do it
+justice it looks heated. My sister had a passion for coldness; she
+would never permit me to lend her any of my warmth. I cannot say
+that it is chilly here to-night. I am agreeably surprised.
+
+    [_The veiled figure flits across again, and_ PAN _once more
+        crosses in close pursuit_.]
+
+PHOEBUS [_as they vanish_].
+
+What an amiable vivacity! Yes; the lower order of divinities will
+be happy, for they will forget. We, on the contrary, have the
+privilege of remembering. It is only the mediocre spirits, that
+cannot quite forget nor clearly remember, which will have neither
+the support of instinct nor the solace of a vivid recollection.
+
+    [_He seats himself. A noise of laughter rises from the marsh,
+        and dies away. In the silence a bird sings._]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Not the Daulian nightingale, of course, but quite a personable
+substitute: less prolongation of the triumph, less insistence upon
+the agony. How curiously the note breaks off! Some pleasant little
+northern bird, no doubt. I experience a strange and quite
+unprecedented appetite for moderation. The absence of the thrill,
+the shaft, the torrent is not disagreeable. The actual Phocian
+frenzy would be disturbing here, out of place, out of time. I must
+congratulate this little, doubtless brown, bird on a very
+considerable skill in warbling. But the moon--what is happening
+to _it_? It is not merely climbing higher, but it is manifestly
+clarifying its light. When I came, it was copper-coloured, now it
+is honey-coloured, the horn of it is almost white like milk. This
+little bird's incantation has, without question, produced this
+fortunate effect. This little bird, halfway on the road between
+the nightingale and the cicada, is doubtless an enchanter, and one
+whose art possesses a more than respectable property. My sister's
+attention should be drawn to this highly interesting circumstance.
+Selene! Selene!
+
+    [_He calls and waits. From the upper woods_ SELENE _slowly
+        descends, wrapped in long white garments_.]
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Sister, behold the throne that once was thine.
+
+SELENE.
+
+And now, a rocking cinder, fouls the skies.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+A magian sweeps its filthy ash away.
+
+SELENE.
+
+There is no magic in the bankrupt world.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Nay, did'st thou hear this twittering peal of song?
+
+SELENE.
+
+Some noise I heard; this glen is full of sounds.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Fling back thy veil, and staunch thy tears, and gaze.
+
+SELENE.
+
+At thee, my brother, not at my darkened orb.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Gaze then at me. What seest thou in mine eyes?
+
+SELENE.
+
+Foul ruddy gleams from what was lately pure.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Nay, but thou gazest not. Look up, look at me!
+
+SELENE.
+
+But on thy sacred eyeballs fume turns fire.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Nay, then, turn once and see thy very moon.
+
+SELENE [_turning round_].
+
+Ah! wonder! the volcanic glare is gone.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+The wizard bird has sung the fumes away.
+
+SELENE.
+
+Empty it seems, and vain; but foul no more.
+
+PHOEBUS [_approaching her, and in a confidential tone_].
+
+I will not disguise from you, Selene, my apprehension that the
+hideous colour may return. Your moon is divorced from yourself,
+and can but be desecrated and forlorn. But at least it should
+be a matter of interest to you--yes, even of gratification, my
+sister--that this little bird, if it be a bird, has an enchanting
+power of temporarily relieving it and raising it.
+
+    [SELENE, _manifestly more cheerful, ascends to the wood on
+        the left_. PHOEBUS, _turning again to the moon_,]
+
+I have observed that this species of mysterious agency has a very
+salutary effect upon the more melancholy of our female divinities.
+They are satisfied if they have the felicity of waiting for
+something which they cannot be certain of realising, and which they
+attribute to a cause impossible to investigate. [_To_ SELENE,
+_raising his voice_.] Whither do you go, my sister?
+
+SELENE.
+
+I am searching for this little bird. I propose to discuss with
+it the nature of its extraordinary, and I am ready to admit its
+gratifying, control over the moon. I think it possible that I may
+concoct with it some scheme for our return. You shall, in that
+case, Phoebus, be no longer excluded from my domain.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Let me urge you to do no such thing. The action of this little
+bird upon your unfortunate luminary is sympathetic, but surely
+very obscure. It would be a pity to inquire into it so closely
+as to comprehend it.
+
+    [SELENE, _without listening to him, passes up into the woods,
+        and exit_.]
+
+PHOEBUS [_alone_].
+
+To comprehend it might even be to discover that it does not exist.
+Whereas to come here night after night, in the fragrant darkness,
+to see the unhallowed lump of fire creep out of the lake, to
+listen for the first clucks and shakes of the sweet little
+purifying song, and to watch the orb growing steadily more hyaline
+and lucent under its sway, how delicious! The absolute harmony and
+concord of nature would be then patent and recurrent before us.
+My poor sister! However, it is consoling to reflect that she is
+almost certain not to be able to find that bird.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+[_The same glen._ AESCULAPIUS _alone, busily arranging a great
+    cluster of herbs which he has collected. He sits on a large
+    stone, with his treasures around him_.]
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Yew--an excellent styptic. Tansy, rosemary. Spurge and marsh
+mallow. The best pellitory I ever plucked out of a wall. The herbs
+of this glen are admirable. They surpass those of the gorges of
+Cyllene. Is this lavender? The scent seems more acrid.
+
+    [_Enter_ PALLAS _and_ EUTERPE.]
+
+PALLAS.
+
+You look enviably animated, Aesculapius. Your countenance is so
+fresh beneath that long white beard of yours, that the barbarians
+will suppose you to be some mad boy, masquerading.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+What will you do with these plants?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+These are my simples. As we shot through the Iberian narrows on our
+frantic voyage hither, my entire store was blown out of my hands
+and away to sea. The rarest sorts were flung about on rocks where
+nothing more valetudinarian than a baboon could possibly taste
+them. My earliest care on arriving here was to search these woods
+for fresh specimens, and my success has been beyond all hope. See,
+this comes from the wet lands on the hither side of the tarn----
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+Where Selene is now searching for the wizard who draws the smoke
+away from the moon's face at night.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+This from the beck where it rushes down between the stems of
+mountain-ash, this from beneath the vast ancestral elm below the
+palace, this from the sea-shore. Marvellous! And I am eager to
+descend again; I have not explored the cliff which breaks the
+descent of the torrent, nor the thicket in the gully. There must
+be marchantia under the spray of the one, and possibly dittany in
+the peat of the other.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+We must not detain you, Aesculapius. But tell us how you propose
+to adapt yourself to our new life. It seems to me that you are
+determined not to find it irksome.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Does it not occur to you, Pallas, that--although I should never
+have had the courage to adopt it--thus forced upon us it offers
+me the most dazzling anticipations? Hitherto my existence has been
+all theory. What there is to know about the principles of health as
+applied to the fluctuations of mortality, I may suppose is known to
+me. You might be troubled, Pallas, with every conceivable malady,
+from elephantiasis to earache, and I should be in a position to
+analyse and to deal with each in turn. You might be obscured by
+ophthalmia, crippled by gout or consumed to a spectre by phthisis,
+and I should be able, without haste, without anxiety, to unravel
+the coil, to reduce the nodosities, to make the fleshy instrument
+respond in melody to all your needs.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+But you have never done this. We knew that you _could_ do it, and
+that has been enough for us.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+It has never been enough for me. The impenetrable immortality of
+all our bodies has been a constant source of exasperation to me.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Is it not much to know?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Yes; but it is more to _do_. The most perfect theory carries a
+monotony and an emptiness about with it, if it is never renovated
+by practice. In Olympus the unbroken health of all the inmates,
+which we have accepted as a matter of course, has been more
+advantageous to them than it has been to me.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I quite see that it has made your position a more academic one than
+you could wish.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+It has made it purely academic, and indeed, Pallas, if you will
+reflect upon it, the very existence of a physician in a social
+system which is eternally protected against every species of bodily
+disturbance borders upon the ridiculous.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+It would interest me to know whether in our old home you were
+conscious of this incongruity, of this lack of harmony between your
+science and your occasions of using it.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+No; I think not. I was satisfied in the possession of exact
+knowledge, and not directly aware of the charm of application. It
+is the result, no doubt, of this resignation of immortality which
+has startled and alarmed us all so much----
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Me, Aesculapius, it has neither alarmed nor startled.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+I mean that while we were beyond the dread of any attack, the
+pleasure of rebutting such attack was unknown to us. I have
+divined, since our misfortunes, that disease itself may bring an
+excitement with it not all unallied to pleasure.... You smile,
+Euterpe, but I mean even for the sufferer. There is more in
+disease than the mere pang and languishment. There is the sense
+of alleviation, the cessation of the throb, the resuming glitter
+in the eye, the restoration of cheerfulness and appetite. These,
+Pallas, are qualities which are indissolubly identified with pain
+and decay, and which therefore--if we rightly consider--were wholly
+excluded from our experience. In Olympus we never brightened, for
+we never flagged; we never waited for a pang to subside, nor felt
+it throbbing less and less poignantly, nor, as if we were watching
+an enemy from a distance, hugged ourselves in a breathless ecstasy
+as it faded altogether; this exquisite experience was unknown to
+us, for we never endured the pang.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+You make me eager for an illness. What shall it be? Prescribe one
+for me. I am ignorant even of the names of the principal maladies.
+Let it be a not unbecoming one.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Ah! no, Euterpe. Your mind still runs in the channel of your lost
+impermeability. Till now, you might fling yourself from the crags
+of Tartarus, or float, like a trail of water-plants, on the long,
+blown flood of the altar-flame, and yet take no hurt, being
+imperishable. But now, part of your hourly occupation, part of your
+faith, your hope, your duty, must be to preserve your body against
+the inroads of decay.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+You present us with a tedious conception of our new existence,
+surely.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Why should it be tedious? There was tedium, rather, in the
+possession of bodies as durable as metal, as renewable as wax,
+as insensitive as water. In the fiercest onset of the passions,
+prolonged to satiety, there was always an element of the unreal.
+What is pleasure, if the strain of it is followed by no fatigue;
+what the delicacy of taste, if we can eat like caverns and drink
+like conduits without being vexed by the slightest inconvenience?
+You will discover that one of the acutest enjoyments of the mortal
+state will be found to consist in guarding against suffering. If
+you are provided with balloons attached to all your members, you
+float upon the sea with indifference. It is the certainty that you
+will drown if you do not swim which gives zest to the exercise. I
+climb along yonder jutting cornice of the cliff with eagerness,
+and pluck my simples with a hand that trembles more from joy than
+fear, precisely because the strain of balancing the nerves, and
+the certainty of suffering as the result of carelessness, knit
+my sensations together into an exaltation which is not exactly
+pleasure, perhaps, but which is not to be distinguished from it
+in its exciting properties.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Is life, then, to resolve itself for us into a chain of
+exhilarating pangs?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Life will now be for you, for all of us, a perpetual combat with a
+brine that half supports, half drags us under; a continual creeping
+and balancing on a chamois path around the forehead of a precipice.
+A headache will be the breaking of a twig, a fever a stone that
+gives way beneath your foot, to lose the use of an organ will be
+to let the alpenstock slip out of your starting fingers. And the
+excitement, and be sure the happiness, of existence will be to
+protract the struggle as long as possible, to push as far as you
+can along the dwindling path, to keep the supports and the
+alleviations of your labour about you as skilfully as you can,
+and in the fuss and business of the little momentary episodes of
+climbing to forget as long and as fully as may be the final and
+absolutely unavoidable plunge. [_A pause, during which_ EUTERPE
+_sinks upon the green sward_.]
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+I have unfolded before you a scheme of philosophical activity. Are
+you not gratified?
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Euterpe will learn to be gratified, Aesculapius, but she had not
+reflected upon the plunge. If she will take my counsel, she will
+continue to avoid doing so. [EUTERPE _rises, and approaches_
+PALLAS, _who continues, to_ AESCULAPIUS.] I am with you in
+recommending to her a constant consideration of the momentary
+episodes of health. And now let us detain you no longer from the
+marchanteas.
+
+EUTERPE.
+
+But pray recollect that they grow where the rocks are both slippery
+and shelving.
+
+    [_Exit_ AESCULAPIUS. EUTERPE _sinks again upon the grass, with her
+        face in her hands, and lies there motionless_. PALLAS _walks
+        up and down, in growing emotion, and at length breaks forth
+        in soliloquy_.]
+
+PALLAS.
+
+  Higher than this dull circle of the sense--
+  Shrewd though its pulsing sharp reminders be,
+  With ceaseless fairy blows that ring and wake
+  The anvil of the brain--I rather choose
+  To lift mine eyes and pierce
+  The long transparent bar that floats above,
+  And hides, or feigns to hide, the choiring stars,
+  And dulls, or faintly dulls, the fiery sun,
+  And lacquers all the glassy sky with gold.
+  For so the strain that makes this mortal life
+  Irksome or squalid, chains that bind us down,
+  Rust on those chains which soils the reddening skin,
+  Passes; and in that concentrated calm,
+  And in that pure concinnity of soul,
+  And in that heart that almost fails to beat,
+  I read a faint beatitude, and dream
+  I walk once more upon the roof of Heaven,
+  And feel all knowledge, all capacity
+  For sovereign thought, all intellectual joy,
+  Blow on me, like fluttering and like dancing winds.
+  We are fallen, fallen!...
+  And yet a nameless mirth, flooding my veins,
+  And yet a sense of limpid happiness
+  And buoyancy and anxious fond desire
+  Quicken my being. It is much to see
+  The perfected geography of thought
+  Spread out before the gorged intelligence,
+  A map from further detail long absolved.
+  But ah! when we have tasted the delight
+  Of toilsome apprehension, how return
+  To that satiety of mental ease
+  Where all is known because it merely is?
+  Nay, here the joy will be to learn and learn,
+  To learn in error and correct in pain,
+  To learn through effort and with ease forget,
+  Building of rough and slippery stones a House,
+  Long schemed, and falling from us, and at the last
+  Imperfect. Knowledge not the aim, so much
+  As pleasure in the toil that leads to knowledge,
+  We shall build, although the house before our eyes
+  Crumble, and we shall gladden in the toil
+  Although it never leads to habitation--
+  Building our goal, though never a fabric rise.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+[_The glen, down which a limpid and murmuring brook descends, with
+    numerous tiny cascades and pools. Beside one of the latter,
+    underneath a great beech-tree, and sitting on the root of it_,
+    APHRODITE, _alone. Enter from below, concealed at first by the
+    undergrowth_, ARES. _It is mid-day._]
+
+APHRODITE [_to herself_].
+
+Here he comes at last, and from the opposite direction.... No!
+that cannot be Phoebus.... Ah! it is you, then!
+
+ARES.
+
+Is it possible? Your Majesty--and alone!
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Phoebus offered me the rustic entertainment of gathering wild
+raspberries. We found some at length, and regaled ourselves. I
+wished for more, and Phoebus, with his usual gallantry, wandered
+dreamily away into the forest on the quest. He has evidently lost
+his way. I sat me down on this tree and waited.
+
+ARES.
+
+Surely it is the first time that you were ever abroad unattended.
+I am amazed at the carelessness of Phoebus. Aphrodite--without an
+attendant!
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+That is rather a fatuous remark, and from you of all people in
+the world. My most agreeable reminiscences are, without exception,
+connected with occasions on which I had escaped from my body-guard
+of nymphs. At the present moment you would do well to face the
+fact, Ares, that I have but a single maid, and that she has
+collapsed under the burdens of novelty and exile.
+
+ARES.
+
+Is that my poor friend Cydippe?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+You have so many friends, Ares. Poor Cydippe, then, broke down this
+morning in moaning hysterics after having borne up just long enough
+to do my hair. I really came out on this rather mad adventure after
+the raspberries to escape the dolours of her countenance, and
+the last thing I saw was her chlamys flung wildly over her head
+as she dived down upon the floor in misery. Such consolations as
+this island has to give me will not proceed from what you call my
+attendant. You do not look well, Ares.
+
+ARES.
+
+I am always well. I am still incensed.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Ah, you are oppressed by our misfortunes?
+
+ARES.
+
+I can think of nothing else.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+You do not, I hope, give way to the most foolish of the emotions,
+and endure the silly torture of self-reproach?
+
+ARES.
+
+I have nothing to reproach myself with. Our forces had never been
+in smarter trim, public spirit in Olympus never more patriotic
+and national; and as to the personal bravery of our forces, it was
+simply a portent of moral splendour.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+And your discipline?
+
+ARES.
+
+It was perfect. I had led the troops up to the point of cheerfully
+marching and counter-marching until they were ready to drop with
+exhaustion, on the eve of each engagement; and at the ends of all
+our practising-grounds brick walls had been set up, at which every
+officer made it a point of honour to tilt head-foremost once a day.
+There was no refinement preserved from the good old wars of
+chivalry which was not familiar to our gallant fellows, and I had
+expressly forbidden every species of cerebral exercise. Nothing,
+I have always said, is so hurtful to the temper of an army as for
+the rank and file to suspect that they are led by men of brains.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There every one must do you justice, Ares. I never heard even the
+voice of prejudice raised to accuse you.
+
+ARES.
+
+No; I do not think any one could have the effrontery to charge me
+with encouraging that mental effort which is so disastrous to the
+work of a soldier. The same old practices which led our forefathers
+to glory--the courage of tigers; the firm belief that if any one
+tried to be crafty it must be because he is a coward; a bull-front
+set straight at every obstacle, whatever its nature; a proper
+contempt for any plan or discovery made since the days of Father
+Uranus--these are the principles in which I disciplined our troops,
+and I will not admit that I can have anything to reproach myself
+with. The circumstances which we were unexpectedly called upon to
+face were such as could never have been anticipated.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I do not see that you could have done otherwise than, as you did,
+to refuse with dignity to anticipate anything so revolutionary.
+
+ARES.
+
+There are certain things which one seems to condone by merely
+acknowledging their existence. That employment of mobile
+mechanisms, for instance----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Do not speak of it! I could never have believed that the semblance
+of the military could be made so excessively distasteful to me.
+
+ARES.
+
+Can I imagine myself admitting the necessity of guarding against
+such an ungentlemanlike form of attack?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Your friends are all aware, Ares, that if the conditions were
+to return, you would never demean yourself and them by guarding
+against anything of the kind. But I advise you not to brood upon
+the past. Your figure will suffer. You must keep up your character
+for solid and agile exercises.
+
+ARES.
+
+It will not be easy for me to occupy myself here. I am accustomed,
+as you know, to hunting and slaying. I thought I might have enjoyed
+some sport with the barbarian islanders, and I selected one for the
+purpose. But Zeus intervened, with that authority which even here,
+in our shattered estate, we know not how to resist.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Did he give any reason for preventing the combat?
+
+ARES.
+
+Yes; and his reasons (I was bound to admit) carried some weight
+with them. He said, first, that it was wrong to kill those who had
+received us with so generous a hospitality; and secondly, that, as
+I am no longer immortal, this brawny savage, with hair so curiously
+coiled and matted over his brain-pan, might kill me; and thirdly,
+that the whole affair might indirectly lead to his, Zeus', personal
+inconvenience. Here then is enjoyment by one door quite shut out
+from me.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Are there not deer in these woods, and perhaps wolves and boars?
+There must be wild duck on the firth, and buzzards in the rocks.
+Instead of challenging the barbarians to a foolish trial of
+strength, why not make them your companions, and learn their
+accomplishments?
+
+ARES.
+
+It is possible that I shall do so. But for the present, anger
+gushes like an intermittent spring of bitter water in my bosom. I
+forget for a moment, and the fountain falls; and then, with a rush,
+memory leaps up in me, a column of poison. I say to myself, It cannot
+be, it shall not be; but I grow calm again and find that it is.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+The worst of the old immortality was the carelessness of it. We
+were utterly unprepared for anything bordering on catastrophe, and
+behold, without warning, we are swept away in a complete cataclysm
+of our fortunes. I see, Ares, that it will be long before you can
+recover serenity, or take advantage of the capabilities of our new
+existence. They will appeal to you more slowly than to the rest
+of us, and you will respond more unwillingly, because of your
+lack--your voluntary and boasted lack--of all intellectual
+suppleness.
+
+ARES.
+
+It is not the business of a soldier to be supple.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+So it appears. And you will suffer for it. For, stiff and blank as
+you may determine to be, circumstances will overpower you. Under
+their influences you will not be able to avoid becoming softer and
+more redundant. But you will resist the process, I see, and you
+will make it as painful as you can.
+
+ARES.
+
+You discuss my case with a cheerful candour, Aphrodite. Are you
+sure of being happier yourself?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Not _sure_; but I have a reasonable confidence that I shall be
+fairly contented. For I, at least, am supple, and I court the
+influences which you think it a point of gallantry to resist.
+
+ARES.
+
+You will continue, I suppose, to make your main business the
+stimulating and the guiding of the affections? Here I admit that
+suppleness, as you call it, is in place.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Unfortunately, even here, immortality was no convenient prelude
+to our present state. We did not, indeed, neglect the heart----
+
+ARES.
+
+If I forget all else, there must be events----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Alas! we loved so briefly and with so facile a susceptibility, that
+I am tempted to ask myself whether in Olympus we really loved at all.
+
+ARES [_with ardour_].
+
+There, at least, memory supplies me with no sort of doubt----
+
+APHRODITE [_coldly_].
+
+Let us keep to generalities. Looking broadly at our experience, I
+should say that the misfortune of the gods, as a preparation for
+their mortality, was that in their deathless state the affections
+fell at the foot of the tree, like these withered leaves. We should
+have fastened the branches of life together in long elastic wires
+of the thin-drawn gold of perdurable sentiment.
+
+ARES.
+
+The rapture, the violence, the hammering pulse, the bursting
+heart,--I see no resemblance between these and the leaves that
+flutter at our feet.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+These leaves had their moment of vitality, when the sap rushed
+through their veins, when their tissue was like a ripple of
+sparkling emerald on the face of the smiling sky. But they could
+not preserve their glow, and they are the more hopelessly dead
+now, because they burned in their green fire so fiercely.
+
+ARES.
+
+We felt no shadow of coming disability strike across our pleasures.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+No; but that was precisely what made our immortality such an ill
+preparation for a brief existence on this island. In Olympus the
+sentiment of yesterday was forgotten, and we realised the passion
+of to-day as little as the caprice of to-morrow. Perhaps this
+fragmentary tenderness was the real chastisement of our implacable
+prosperity.
+
+ARES [_in a very low voice_].
+
+Can we not resume in this our exile, and with more prospect of
+continuity, the emotions which were so agreeable in our former
+state? So agreeable--although, as you justly say, too ephemeral
+[_coming a little closer_]. Can you not teach us to moderate and
+to prolong the rapture?
+
+APHRODITE [_rising to her feet_].
+
+It may be. We shall see, Ares. But one thing I have already
+perceived. In this mortal sphere, the heart needs solitude, it
+needs silence. It must have its questionings and its despairs. The
+triumphant supremacy of the old emotions cannot be repeated here.
+For we have a new enemy to contend with. Even if love should
+prosecute its conquests here in all the serenity of success, it
+will not be able to escape from an infliction worse than any which
+we dreamed of when we were immortals.
+
+ARES.
+
+And what is that, Aphrodite?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+The blight of indifference.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+[APHRODITE _and_ CIRCE _are seated on the grass in a little dell
+    surrounded by beechwoods. Far away a bell is heard._]
+
+CIRCE.
+
+What is that curious distant sound? Is it a bird?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Cydippe tells me that there is a temple on the hill beyond these
+woods. I wonder to whom amongst us it is dedicated?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I think it must be to you, Aphrodite, for now it is explained that
+on coming hither I met a throng of men and maidens, sauntering
+slowly along in twos, exactly as they used to do at Paphos.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Were they walking apart, or wound together by garlands?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+They were wound together by the arm of the boy coiled about the
+waist of the girl, or resting upon it, a symbol, no doubt, of your
+cestus.
+
+APHRODITE [_eagerly_].
+
+With any animation of gesture, Circe?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+With absolutely none. The maidens were dressed--but not all of
+them--in robes of that very distressing electric blue that bites
+into the eye, that blue which never was on sky or sea, and which
+was absolutely banished from every colour-combination in Olympus.
+It was employed in Hades as a form of punishment, if you recollect.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+No doubt, then, this procession was a penitential one, and its
+object to appease my offended deity. But what a mistake, poor
+things! No one ever regained my favour by making a frump of herself.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+After these couples, came, in a very slow but formless moving
+group, figures of a sombre and spectral kind, draped, both males
+and females, in dull black, with little ornaments of gold in their
+hands. It was with the utmost amazement that, on their coming
+closer, I recognised some of the faces as those of the ruddy,
+gentle barbarians to whom we owe our existence here. You cannot
+think how painful it was to see them thus travestied. In their
+well-fitting daily dress they look very attractive in a rustic
+mode; there is one large one that labours in the barn, who
+reminds me, when his sleeves are turned up, of Ulysses. But, oh!
+Aphrodite, you must contrive to let them know that you pardon
+their shortcomings, and relieve them from the horrors of this
+remorseful costume. I know not which is more depressing to
+the heart, the blue of the young or the black of the aged.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I expect that at this distance from the centre of things, all
+manner of misconception has crept into my ritual. Of course, I
+cannot now demand any rites, and that the dear good people should
+pay them at all is very touching.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Don't you think that it would be delightful to introduce here a
+purer form of liturgy? It is very sad to see your spirit so little
+understood.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Well, I hardly know. It is kind of you, Circe, to suggest such a
+thing. No doubt it would be very pleasant. But I feel, of course,
+the hollowness of the whole concern. We must be careful not to
+deceive the barbarians.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Certainly ... oh! yes, certainly. But ... I am sure it would be so
+good for them to have a ritual to follow. We should not absolutely
+assert to them that you still exist as an immortal, but I do not
+see why we should insist on tearing every illusion away from them.
+Suppose I could persuade them that you were no longer displeased
+with them, and that you were quite willing to let them wear pink
+and white robes again, and plenty of flowers in their hair; and
+suppose I encouraged them to sacrifice turtle-doves on your altar,
+and arrange garlands of wild roses in the proper way, don't you
+think you could bring yourself to make a concession?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+What do you mean by a "concession"?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Well, for instance, when they were all assembled in the temple, and
+had sung a hymn, and the priest had gone up to the altar, could you
+not suddenly make an appearance, voluminous and splendid, and smile
+upon them? Could you not shower a few champak-blossoms over the
+congregation?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+It is very ingenious of you to think of these things. But I suppose
+it would not be right to attempt to do it. In the first place it
+would encourage them to believe in my immortality----
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Oh! but to _believe_ is such a salutary discipline to the lower
+classes. That is the whole principle of religion, surely,
+Aphrodite? It is not for people like ourselves. You know how
+indolent Dionysus is, but he always attended the temple when he
+was hunting upon Nysa.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There is a great deal in that argument, no doubt. Only, what will
+be the result when they discover that it is all a mistake, and
+that I am a mortal like themselves?
+
+CIRCE.
+
+You never can be a mortal like the barbarians, for you have been a
+force ruling the sea, and the flowers, and the winds, and twisting
+the blood of man and woman in your fingers like a living skein of
+soft red silk. They will always worship you. It may not be in
+temples any longer, not with a studied liturgy, but wherever the
+sap rises in a flower, or the joy of life swims up in the morning
+through the broken film of dreams, or a young man perceives for
+the first time that the girl he meets is comely, you will be
+worshipped, Aphrodite, for the essence of your immortality is the
+cumulative glow of its recurrent mortality.
+
+HERMES [_entering abruptly_].
+
+You will be disappointed----
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Ah! you followed the youths and maidens to the little temple of
+our friend. Is it not beautiful?
+
+HERMES.
+
+It is hideous.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Are you sure that it is a temple at all?
+
+HERMES.
+
+I confess that I was for a long time uncertain, but on the whole
+I believe that it is.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+But is it dedicated to me?
+
+HERMES.
+
+That is the disappointment.... It is best to tell you at once
+that I see no evidence whatever that it is.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+I am very much disappointed.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I am very much relieved. But could you not gather from the
+decoration of the interior to whom of us it is inscribed?
+
+HERMES.
+
+It is not decorated at all: whitewashed walls, wooden benches,
+naked floors.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+But what is the nature of the sculpture?
+
+HERMES.
+
+I could see no sculpture, except a sort of black tablet, with
+names upon it, and at the sides two of the youthful attendants of
+Eros--those that have wings, indeed, but cannot rest. These were
+exceedingly ill-carven in a kind of limestone. And I hardly like
+to tell you what I found behind the altar----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I am not easily shocked. My poor worshippers sometimes demand a
+very considerable indulgence.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Nothing very ugly, I hope?
+
+HERMES.
+
+Yes; very ugly, and still more incomprehensible. But nothing that
+could spring out of any misconception of the ritual of our friend.
+No; I hardly like to tell you. Well, a gaunt painted figure, with
+spines about the bleeding forehead----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Was it fastened to any symbol? Did you notice anything that
+explained the horror of it?
+
+HERMES.
+
+No. I did not observe it very closely. As I was glancing at it,
+the celebration or ritual, or whatever we are to call it, began,
+and I withdrew to the door, not knowing what frenzy might seize
+upon the worshippers.
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There was a cannibal altar in Arcadia to Phoebus, so I have
+heard. He instantly destroyed it, and scattered the ignorant
+savages who had raised it.
+
+HERMES.
+
+There was a touch of desolate majesty about this figure. I fear
+that it portrays some blighting Power of suffering or of grief.
+[_He shudders._]
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+There are certainly deities of whom we knew nothing in Olympus.
+Perhaps this is the temple of some Unknown God.
+
+HERMES.
+
+I admit that I thought, with this picture, and with their sinister
+garments of black and of blue, and with the bareness and harshness
+of the temple, that something might be combined which it would
+give me no satisfaction to witness. I placed myself near the door,
+where, in a moment, I could have regained the exquisite forest, and
+the odour of this carpet of woodruff, and your enchanting society.
+But nothing occurred to disconcert me. After genuflexions and
+liftings of the voice----
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+What was the object of these?
+
+HERMES.
+
+I absolutely failed to determine. Well, the priest--if I can so
+describe a man without apparent dedication, robed without charm,
+and exalted by no visible act of sacrifice--ascended a species of
+open box, and spoke to the audience from the upturned lid of it.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+What did he say? Did he explain the religion of his people?
+
+HERMES.
+
+To tell you the truth, Circe, although I listened with what
+attention I could, and although the actual language was perfectly
+clear to me--you know I am rather an accomplished linguist--I
+formed no idea of what he said. I could not find the starting-point
+of his experience.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+To whom can this temple be possibly dedicated?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+Depend upon it, it is not a temple at all. What Hermes was present
+at was unquestionably some gathering of local politicians. Poor
+these barbarians may be, but they could not excuse by poverty such
+a neglect of the decencies as he describes. No flowers, no bright
+robes, no music of stringed instruments, no sacrifice--it is quite
+impossible that the meanest of sentient beings should worship in
+such a manner. And as for the picture which you saw behind what you
+took to be the altar, I question not that it is used to keep in
+memory some ancestor who suffered from the tyranny of his masters.
+In the belief that he was assisting at a process of rustic worship,
+our poor Hermes has doubtless attended a revolutionary meeting.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Dreadful! But may its conflicts long keep outside the arcades of
+this delightful woodland!
+
+HERMES.
+
+And still we know not to which of us the mild barbarians pray!
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+    [_The same scene, but no one present. A butterfly flits across
+        from the left, makes several pirouettes and exit to the
+        right._ HERA _enters quickly from the left_.]
+
+HERA.
+
+Could I be mistaken? What is this overpowering perfume? Is it
+conceivable that in this new world odours take corporeal shape?
+Anything is conceivable, except that I was mistaken in thinking
+that I saw it fly across this meadow. It can only have been
+beckoning me. [_The butterfly re-enters from the right, and, after
+towering upwards, and wheeling in every direction, settles on a
+cluster of meadow-sweet. It is followed from the right by_ EROS.
+_He and_ HERA _look at one another in silence_.]
+
+HERA.
+
+You are occupied, Eros. I will not detain you.
+
+EROS.
+
+I propose to stay here for a little while. Are you moving on?
+[_Each of them fixes eyes on the insect._]
+
+HERA.
+
+I must beg you to leave me, or to remain perfectly motionless. I
+am excessively agitated.
+
+EROS.
+
+I followed the being which is hanging downwards from that spray
+of blossom. Does it recall some one to you?
+
+HERA.
+
+Not in its present position. But I will not pretend, Eros, that
+it is not the source of my agitation. Look at it now, as it flings
+itself round the stalk, and opens and waves its fans. Do you still
+not comprehend?
+
+EROS.
+
+I see nothing in it now. I am disappointed.
+
+HERA.
+
+But those great coloured eyes, waxing and waning! Those moons of
+pearl! The copper that turns to crimson, the turquoise that turns
+to violet, the greenish, pointed head that swings and rolls its
+yoke of slender plumage! Ah! Eros, is it possible that you do not
+perceive that it is a symbol of my peacock, my bird translated
+into the language of this narrow and suppressed existence of ours?
+What a strange and exquisite messenger! My poor peacock, with a
+strident shriek of terror, fled from me on that awful morning, the
+flames singeing its dishevelled train, its wings helplessly
+flapping in the torrents of conflagration. It bade me no adieu, its
+clangour of despair rang forth, an additional note of discord, from
+the inner courts of my palace. And out of its agony, of its horror,
+it has contrived to send me this adorable renovation of itself, all
+its grace and all its splendour reincarnated in this tiny creature.
+But alas! how am I to capture, how to communicate with it?
+
+EROS.
+
+I hesitate to disturb your illusion, Hera. But you are singularly
+mistaken. I have a far greater interest in this messenger than you
+can have; and if you dream its presence to be a tribute to your
+pride, I am much more tenderly certain that it is a reproach to my
+affections. See, those needlessly gaudy wings,--a mere disguise to
+bring it through the multitude of its enemies--are closed now, and
+it resumes its pendulous attitude, as aerial as an evening cloud,
+as graceful as sorrow itself, sable as the shadow of a leaf in the
+moonlight.
+
+HERA.
+
+Whom do you suppose it to represent, Eros?
+
+EROS.
+
+"Represent" is an inadequate word. I know it to be, in some
+transubstantiation, the exact nature of which I shall have to
+investigate, my adored and injured Psyche. You never appreciated
+her, Hera.
+
+HERA.
+
+It was necessary in such a society as ours to preserve the
+hierarchical distinctions. She was a charming little creature, and
+I never allowed myself to indulge in the violent prejudice of your
+mother. When you presented her at last, I do not think that you
+had any reason to reproach me with want of civility.
+
+    [_The butterfly dances off._]
+
+HERA _and_ EROS _together_.
+
+It is gone.
+
+        [_A pause._]
+
+HERA.
+
+We are in a curious dilemma. Unless we are to conceive that two
+of the lesser Olympians have been able to combine in adopting a
+symbolic disguise, either you or I have been deceived. That
+tantalising visitant can scarcely have been at the same time Psyche
+and my peacock.
+
+EROS.
+
+I know not why; and for my part am perfectly willing to recognise
+its spots and moons to your satisfaction, if you will permit me to
+recognise my own favourite in the garb of grief.
+
+HERA.
+
+My bird was ever a masquerader--it may be so.
+
+EROS.
+
+Psyche, also, was not unaccustomed to disguises.
+
+HERA.
+
+You take the recollection coolly, Eros.
+
+EROS.
+
+Would you have me shriek and moan? Would you have me throw myself
+in convulsive ecstasy upon that ambiguous insect? You are not the
+first, Hera, who has gravely misunderstood my character. I am
+not, I have never been, a victim of the impulsive passions. The
+only serious misunderstandings which I have ever had with my
+illustrious mother have resulted from her lack of comprehension
+of this fact. _She_ is impulsive, if you will! Her existence has
+been a succession of centrifugal adventures, in which her sole
+idea has been to hurl herself outward from the solitude of her
+individuality. I, on the other hand, leave very rarely, and with
+peculiar reluctance, the rock-crystal tower from which I watch
+the world, myself unavoidable and unattainable. My arrows
+penetrate every disguise, every species of physical and spiritual
+armour, but they are not turned against my own heart. I have
+always been graceful and inconspicuous in my attitudes. The image
+of Eros, with contorted shoulders and projected elbows, aiming a
+shaft at himself, is one which the Muse of Sculpture would
+shudder to contemplate.
+
+HERA.
+
+Then what was the meaning of your apparent infatuation for Psyche?
+
+EROS.
+
+O do not call it "apparent." It was genuine and it was
+all-absorbing. But it was absolutely exceptional. Looking back, it
+seems to me that I must have been gazing at myself in a mirror, and
+have dismissed an arrow before I realised who was the quarry. It is
+not necessary to remind you of the circumstances----
+
+HERA.
+
+You would, I suppose, describe them as exceptional?
+
+EROS.
+
+As wholly exceptional. And could I be expected to prolong an
+ardour so foreign to my nature? The victim of passion cannot be
+a contemplator at the same moment, and I may frankly admit to you,
+Hera, that during the period of my infatuation for Psyche, there
+were complaints from every province of the universe. It was said
+that unless my attention could be in a measure diverted from that
+admirable girl, there would be something like a stagnation of
+general vitality. Phoebus remarked one day, that if the ploughman
+became the plough the cessation of harvests would be inevitable.
+
+HERA.
+
+It was at that moment, I suppose, that you besought Zeus so
+passionately to confer upon Psyche the rank of a goddess?
+
+EROS.
+
+You took that, no doubt, for an evidence of my intenser
+infatuation. An error; it was a proof that the arguments of the
+family were beginning to produce their effect upon me. I perceived
+my responsibility, and I recognised that it was not the place of
+the immortal organiser of languishment to be sighing himself. To
+deify my lovely Psyche was to recognise her claim, and--and----
+
+HERA.
+
+To give you a convenient excuse for neglecting her?
+
+EROS.
+
+It is that crudity of yours, Hera, which has before now made your
+position in Olympus so untenable. You lack the art of elegant
+insinuation.
+
+HERA.
+
+Am I then to believe that you were playing a part when you seemed
+a little while ago so anxious to recognise Psyche in the drooping
+butterfly?
+
+EROS.
+
+Oh! far from it. The sentiment of recognition was wholly genuine
+and almost rapturously pleasurable. It is true that in the
+confusion of our flight I had not been able to give a thought to
+our friend, who was, unless I am much mistaken, absent from her
+palace. Nor will I be so absurd as to pretend that I have, for a
+long while past, felt at all keenly the desire for her company. She
+has very little conversation. There are certain peculiarities of
+manner, which----
+
+HERA.
+
+I know exactly what you mean. My peacock has a very peculiar voice,
+and----
+
+EROS [_impatiently_].
+
+You must permit me to protest against any comparison between Psyche
+and your worthy bird. But I was going to say that the moment I
+saw the brilliant little discrepancy which led us both to this
+spot--and to which I hesitate to give a more definite name--I
+was instantly and most pleasantly reminded of certain delightful
+episodes, of a really charming interlude, if I may so call it.
+I cannot be perfectly certain what connection our ebullient
+high-flyer has with the goddess whose adorer I was and whose
+friend I shall ever be. But the symbol--if it be no more than a
+symbol--has been sufficient to awaken in me all that was most
+enjoyable in our relations. I shall often wander in these woods,
+among the cloud-like masses of odorous blossom, in this windless
+harbour of sunlight and the murmur of leaves, in the hope of
+finding the little visitant here. She will never fail to remind me,
+but without disturbance, of all that was happiest in a series of
+relations which grew at last not so wholly felicitous as they once
+had been. One of the pleasures this condition of mortality offers
+us, I foresee, is the perpetual recollection of what was delightful
+in the one serious liaison of my life, and of nothing else.
+
+HERA.
+
+Aphrodite would charge you with cynicism, Eros.
+
+EROS.
+
+It would not be the first time that she has mistaken my philosophy
+for petulance.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+[_On the terrace beside the house are seated_ PERSEPHONE, MAIA,
+    _and_ CHLORIS. _The afternoon is rapidly waning, and lights are
+    seen to twinkle on the farther shore of the sea. As the twilight
+    deepens, from just out of sight a man's voice is heard singing
+    as follows_:]
+
+  _As I lay on the grass, with the sun in the west,
+  A woman went by me, a babe at her breast;
+      She kissed it and pressed it,
+      She cooed, she caressed it,
+  Then rocked it to sleep in her elbow-nest._
+
+  _She rocked it to rest with a sad little song,
+  How the days were grown short, and the nights grown long;
+      How love was a rover,
+      How summer was over,
+  How the winds of winter were shrill and strong._
+
+  _We must haste, she sang, while the sky is bright,
+  While the paths are plain and the town's in sight,
+      Lest the shadows that watch us
+      Should creep up and catch us,
+  For the dead walk here in the grass at night._
+
+    [_The voice withdraws farther down the woods, but from a lower
+    distance, in the clear evening, the last stanza is heard repeated.
+    The_ GODDESSES _continue silent, until the voice has died away_.]
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Rude words set to rude music; but they seem to penetrate to the
+very core of the heart.
+
+MAIA.
+
+Are you sad to-night, Chloris?
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Not sad, precisely; but anxious, feverish, a little excited.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Hark! the song begins again.
+
+    [_They listen, and from far away the words come faintly back:_
+
+_For the dead walk here in the grass at night._]
+
+MAIA.
+
+The dead! Shall we see them?
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Why not? These barbarians appear to avoid them with an invincible
+terror, but why should we do so?
+
+MAIA.
+
+I do not feel that it would be possible for the dead to "catch" me,
+since I should be instantly and keenly watching for them, and much
+more eager to secure their presence than they could be to secure
+mine.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+We do not know of what we speak, for it may very well be that the
+barbarians have some experience of these beings. Their influence
+may be not merely malign, but disgusting.
+
+MAIA.
+
+How ignorant we are!
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Surely, Persephone, you must be able to give us some idea of the
+dead. Were they not the sole occupants of your pale dominions?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+It is very absurd of me, but really I do not seem to recollect
+anything about them.
+
+MAIA.
+
+I suppose you disliked living in Hades very much?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Well, I spent six months there every year, to please my husband.
+But a great deal of my time was taken up in corresponding with my
+mother. She was always nervous if she did not hear regularly from
+me. I really feel quite ashamed of my inattention.
+
+MAIA.
+
+You don't even recall what the inhabitants of the country were
+like?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+I recollect that they seemed dreadfully wanting in vitality. They
+came in troops when I held a reception; they swept by.... I cannot
+remember what they were like----
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+It must have been dreary for you there, Persephone.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Well, we had our own interests. I believe I did my duty. It seemed
+to me that I must be there if Pluto wished it, and I was pleased
+to be with him. But--if you can understand me--there was a sort of
+a dimness over everything, and I never entered into the political
+life of the place. As to the social life, you can imagine that
+they were not people that one cared to know. At the same time,
+of course, I feel now how ridiculous it was of me to hold that
+position and not take more interest.
+
+MAIA.
+
+Demeter, of course, never encouraged you to make any observation of
+the manners and customs of Hades.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Oh, no! that was just it. She always said: "Pray don't let me hear
+the least thing about the horrid place." You remember that she very
+strongly disapproved of my going there at all----
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+Yes; I remember that Arethusa, when she brought me back my
+daffodils, told me how angry Demeter was----
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+And yet she was quite nice to my husband when once Zeus had decided
+that I had better go.
+
+    [_There is a pause._ MAIA _rises and leans on the parapet, over the
+        woods, now drowned in twilight, to the sea, which still faintly
+        glitters. She turns and comes back to the other two, standing
+        above them._]
+
+MAIA.
+
+I, too, might have observed something as I went sailing over the
+purpureal ocean. But I was always talking to my sisters. The fact
+is we all of us neglected to learn anything about death.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+We thought of it as of something happening in that world of Hades
+which could never become of the slightest importance to us. Who
+could have imagined that we should have to take it into practical
+account?
+
+MAIA.
+
+Well, now we shall have to accept it, to be prepared for its
+tremendous approach.
+
+CHLORIS [_after a pause_].
+
+Perhaps this famous "death" may prove after all to be only another
+kind of life. [_Rising and approaching_ MAIA.] Don't you think this
+is indicated even by the song of these barbarians? Besides, our
+stay here must be the ante-chamber to something wholly different.
+
+MAIA.
+
+We can hardly suppose that it can lead to nothing.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+No; surely we shall put off more or less leisurely, with dignity or
+without it, the garments of our sensuous existence, and discover
+something underneath all these textures of the body?
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+One of our priests in Hades, I do remember, sang that silence was
+a voice, and declared that even in the deserts of immensity the soul
+was stunned and deafened by the chorus and anti-chorus of nature.
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+What did he mean? What is the soul?
+
+MAIA.
+
+I must confess that in this our humility, our corporeal
+degradation, instead of feeling crushed, I am curiously conscious
+of a wider range of sensibility. Perhaps that is the soul? Perhaps,
+in the suppression of our immortality, something metallic,
+something hermetical, has been broken down, and already we stand
+more easily exposed to the influences of the spirit?
+
+CHLORIS.
+
+In that case, to slough the sheaths of the body, one by one, ought
+to be to come nearer to the final freedom, and the last coronation
+and consecration of existence may prove to be this very "death" we
+dread so much.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+I can fancy that such conjectures as these may prove to be one of
+the chief sources of satisfaction in this new mortality of ours:
+the variegated play of light and shadow thrown upon it. Well, the
+less we know and see, the more exciting it ought to be to guess
+and to peer.
+
+MAIA.
+
+And some of us, depend upon it, will be able to persuade ourselves
+that we alone can use our eyesight in the pitch profundity of
+darkness, and these will find a peculiar pleasure in tormenting
+the others who have less confidence in their imagination.
+
+    [_They seat themselves, and are silent. Far away is once more
+        faintly heard the song, and then it dies away. A long
+        silence. Then, a confused hum of cries and voices is heard,
+        and approaches the terrace from below. The Goddesses start
+        to their feet. From the left appear_ SILVANUS, ALCYONE _and_
+        FAUNA, _bearing the body of_ CYDIPPE, _which they place very
+        carefully on the grass in front of the scene_.]
+
+CHLORIS [_in an excited whisper_].
+
+Is this our first experience of the mystery?
+
+FAUNA _and_ ALCYONE.
+
+She is dead! She is dead!
+
+MAIA.
+
+The first of the immortals to succumb to the burden of mortality!
+
+SILVANUS.
+
+Where is Aesculapius? Call him, call him!
+
+MAIA.
+
+He cannot bring back the dead.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+What has happened? Cydippe is livid, her limbs are stark, her
+eyes are wide open, and motionless, and unnaturally brilliant.
+
+SILVANUS [_to_ CHLORIS].
+
+She was gathering a little posy of your wild flowers--eyebright,
+and crane's bills and small blue pansies, when----
+
+FAUNA.
+
+There glided out of the intertwisted fibres of the blue-berries
+a serpent----
+
+ALCYONE.
+
+Grey, with black arrows down the spine, and a flat, diabolical
+head----
+
+FAUNA.
+
+And Cydippe never saw it, and stretched out her hand again,
+and--see----
+
+SILVANUS.
+
+The viper fixed his fangs here, in the blue division of the vein,
+here in her translucent wrist. See, it swells, it darkens!
+
+FAUNA.
+
+And with a scream she fell, and swooned away, and died, turning
+backwards, so that her hair caught in the springy herbage, and her
+head rolled a little in her pain, so that her hair was loosened and
+tightened, and look, there are still little tufts of blue-berry
+leaves in her hair.
+
+SILVANUS.
+
+But here comes Aesculapius.
+
+    [_They all greet_ AESCULAPIUS, _who enters from the left, with
+        his basket of remedies_.]
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Ah! sage master of simples, this is a problem beyond thy solution,
+a case beyond thy cure.
+
+AESCULAPIUS [_to the goddesses_].
+
+You think that Cydippe is dead?
+
+MAIA.
+
+Unquestionably. The savage viper has slain her.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Then prepare to behold what should seem a greater miracle to you
+than to me. But, first, Silvanus, bind a strip of clothing very
+tightly round the upper part of her arm, for no more than we can
+help of those treasonable messengers must fly posting from the
+wound to Cydippe's heart.
+
+PERSEPHONE [_sententiously_].
+
+It can receive no more such messages.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+I think you are mistaken. And now, Fauna, a few drops of water
+in this cup from the trickling spring yonder. That is well. Stand
+farther away from Cydippe, all of you.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+What are those pure white needles you drop into the water? How
+quickly they dissolve. Ah! he lays the mixture to Cydippe's wound.
+She sighs; her eyelids close; her heart is beating. What is this
+magic, Aesculapius?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Do not tell your husband, Persephone, or he will complain to Zeus
+that I am depriving him of his population. But if there is magic
+in this, there is no miracle. [_To the others._] Take her softly
+into the house and lay her down. She will take a long sleep, and
+will wake at the end of it with no trace of the poison or
+recollection of her suffering.
+
+    [_They carry_ CYDIPPE _forth_. PERSEPHONE, MAIA, _and_
+        AESCULAPIUS _remain_.]
+
+MAIA.
+
+Then--she was not dead?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+No; it was but the poison-swoon, which precedes death, if it be
+not arrested.
+
+MAIA.
+
+How rejoiced I am!
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+One would say your joy had disappointed you.
+
+MAIA.
+
+No, indeed, for I am attached to Cydippe, but oh! Persephone, it
+is strange to be at the very threshold of the mystery----
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+And to have the opening door shut in our faces? Perhaps ... next
+time ... they may not be able to find Aesculapius.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+[_The terrace, as in the first scene_; ZEUS _enters from the house,
+    conducted by_ HEBE _and several of the lesser divinities_.]
+
+HEBE.
+
+Will your Majesty be pleased to descend to the lower boskage?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+No! Place my throne here, out of the wind, in the sun, which seems
+to have very little fire left in it, but some pleasant light still.
+The sea down there is bright again to-day; the carrying of our
+unfortunate person upon its surface was probably the source of
+immense alarm to it. It quaked and blackened continuously. Now we
+are removed, it regains something of its normal quiescence. I trust
+that the land hereabouts is dowered with a less painful
+susceptibility.
+
+GANYMEDE.
+
+A priest, sire, the only one who saved his musical instrument
+through our calamities, stands within. Is your Majesty disposed to
+be sung to?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+No, certainly not. Which is he? [_The_ PRIEST _is pointed out_.]
+What an odd-looking person! Yes, he may give me a specimen of his
+art--a short one.
+
+    [_The_ PRIEST _comes forward; he is dressed in wild Thessalian
+        raiment. He approaches with uncouth gestures, and a mixture
+        of servility and self-consciousness. On receiving a nod
+        from_ ZEUS, _he tunes his instrument and sings as follows_:]
+
+      _Wild swans winging
+        Through the blue,
+      Spiders springing
+        To a clue,
+    Till the sparkling drops renew
+      All that ever
+      Youth's endeavour
+    Had determined to undo.
+  White and blue are hoards of treasure,
+  For the panting hands of pleasure
+  To go dropping, dropping, dropping,
+        Without measure
+      Through and through._
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Very pretty, I must say. Would you repeat it again?
+
+[PRIEST _repeats it again_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+What does it ... exactly _mean_? I think it quite pretty, you
+understand.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Does your Majesty receive any impression from it?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Well, I don't know that I could precisely parse it. But it is very
+pretty. Yes, I think I gain a certain impression from it.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Do you not feel, sire, a peculiar sense of flush, of spring-tide--a
+direct juvenile ebullience?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Ah, no doubt, no doubt. And a kind of nostalgia, or harking-back to
+happier days, a sense of their rapid passage, and their
+irrecoverability. Is that right?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+It is a positive divination!
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I am conscious of the agreeable recollection of an incident----
+
+PRIEST [_with rapture_].
+
+Ah!----
+
+ZEUS.
+
+A little event?----
+
+PRIEST.
+
+You make my heart beat so high, sire, that I can hardly speak.
+Deign, sire, to recall that incident.
+
+ZEUS [_with extreme affability_].
+
+It was hardly an incident.... I merely happened, while you were
+reciting your song, to remember an occasion on which--on which
+Iris, at the rampart of our golden wall, bending back, was caught
+by the wind, and--and the contours were delicious.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Oh! the word, the word!
+
+ZEUS [_with slight hauteur_].
+
+I do not follow you. Her rainbow----
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Ah! yes, sire, the rainbow, the rainbow! O what an art of
+incontestable divination!
+
+ZEUS [_much animated_].
+
+But you did not say anything about a rainbow, nor describe one,
+nor ever mention the elements of such a bow.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Ah! no, sire. That is the art of the New Poetry. It names nothing,
+it describes nothing. All that it designs to do is to place the
+mind of the listener--of the august and perspicacious listener--in
+such an attitude as that the unnamed, the undescribed object rises
+full in vision. The poet flings forth his melody, and to the gross
+ear it seems a mere tinkle of inanity. That is simply because the
+crowd who worship at the shrine of the Sminthean Apollo have been
+accustomed by an old-fashioned and ridiculously incompetent
+priesthood to look for an instant and mechanical relation between
+sound and sense. I would not exaggerate, sire; but the kind of
+poetry lately cultivated, not only at Delphi, but in Delos also,
+is simply obsolete.
+
+ZEUS [_suspiciously_].
+
+Again I am not sure that I quite follow you.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+To your Majesty, at least, the New Poetry opens its casket as
+widely as the rose-bud does to the zephyr.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I can follow that--but it rather reminds me of the Old Poetry.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+It was intended to do so. What promptitude of mind! What divine
+penetration!
+
+ZEUS [_affably_].
+
+I have always believed that if I had enjoyed leisure from public
+life, I should have excelled in my judgment of the fine arts. [_To
+the_ PRIEST, _with gravity_.] You are a gifted young man. Be sure
+that you employ your talents with discretion. Such an intellect as
+yours carries responsibility with it. I shall be quite pleased to
+permit you to recite "The Rainbow" to me again. [_The_ PRIEST
+_prepares to recite it_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Oh, not now! Some other time! [_Graciously dismisses the_ PRIEST.]
+
+ZEUS [_after a long pause_].
+
+The attitude of my family, in these ambiguous circumstances,
+is everything that could be desired. My original feeling of
+irritability has passed away. I should have supposed it to be
+what Pallas calls "fatigue," a confusion or discord of the
+nerve-centres, which she tells me is incident to mortality.
+What Pallas can possibly know about it is more than I can guess,
+especially, as there were not infrequent occasions on Olympus
+itself on which my Supreme Godhead was disturbed by flashes of
+what I should be forced to describe as exasperation, states of
+mind in which I formed--and indeed executed--the sudden project
+of breaking something. These were, I believe, simply the result
+of an excessive sense of responsibility. I am not one of those
+who conceive that the duty of deity is to sit passive beside the
+cup of nectar. Here on this island, in the permanent absence of
+that refreshment, I reflect (I perceive that I shall have very
+frequent opportunities for reflection) that I was perhaps only
+too anxious to preserve the harmony of heaven. My sense of
+decorum--may it not have been excessive? From below, as I
+imagine, from the stations occupied--I will not say by the
+inanimate or half-animate creation, such as insects, or men, or
+minerals--but by the demi-gods, I take it that the dignity and
+orbic beauty of our court appeared sublimely immaculate. In the
+inner circle, alas! no one knows better than I do that there
+were--well, dissensions. I will go further, in candour to myself,
+and admit that these occasionally led to excesses. I cannot
+charge my recollection with my having done anything to excuse
+or encourage these. The personal conduct of the Sovereign
+was always, I cannot but believe, above reproach. But the
+eccentricities--if I may style them so--of certain of my children
+were sometimes regrettable. I wonder that they did not age me;
+they would do so immediately in my present condition. But in this
+island, where we are to swarm like animalcules in a drop of
+water, I shall be relieved of all responsibility. Where there
+is no one to notice that errors are committed, no errors _are_
+committed. As the person of most experience in the whole world,
+I do not mind stating my ripe opinion that a fault which has no
+effect upon political conditions is in no sensible degree a fault
+at all. Pallas would contend the point, I suppose, but I am at
+ease. I shall not allow the conduct of my children, except as it
+shall regard myself, to affect my good-humour in the slightest
+degree.
+
+    [PHOEBUS _enters, slowly pacing across the terrace_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Your planet seems to have recovered something of its tone,
+Phoebus.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+If, father, you regard--as you have every right to do--your
+venerable person as the centre of my interests, I rejoice to allow
+that this seems to be the case.
+
+ZEUS [_with a touch of reserve_].
+
+I meant that the sun shows a tendency to return to its forgotten
+orbit. It is quite warm here out of the wind. [_More genially._]
+But as to myself, I admit a great recovery in my spirits. I have
+given up fretting for Iris, who was certainly lost on our way here,
+and Pallas has been showing me a curious little jewel she brought
+with her, which has created in me a kind of wistful cheeriness. I
+do not remember to have experienced anything of the kind before.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+I declare I believe that you will adapt yourself as well as the
+rest of us to this anomalous existence.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+We shall see; and I shall have so much time now, that I may
+even--what I am sure ought to gratify you, Phoebus,--be able to
+give my attention to the fine arts. A fallen monarch can always
+defy adversity by forming a collection of curiosities.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+If you make the gem of which Pallas is so proud the nucleus of
+your cabinet, I feel convinced that it will give you lasting
+satisfaction. And we are so poor now that it can never be complete,
+and therefore never become tiresome. But what was it that the
+oracle of Nemea amused and puzzled us by saying, "To form a
+collection is well, yet to take a walk is better"? I will attend
+your Majesty to your apartments, and then wander in these extensive
+woods.
+
+            [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+    [_A dell below the house, with a white poplar-tree growing
+        alone. Under it_ HERACLES _sits, in an attitude of deep
+        dejection, his club fallen at his feet, a horn empty at
+        his side. To him enters_ EROS.]
+
+EROS.
+
+I have been congratulating our friends on their surpassing
+cheerfulness. Even Zeus is displaying a marvellous longanimity in
+his adverse state, and Pallas is positively frivolous. We must have
+disembarked, however, upon the island of Paradox, for everything
+goes by contraries; here I find you, Heracles, commonly so serene
+and uplifted, sunken in the pit of depression. You should squeeze
+the breath out of your melancholy, as you did out of Hera's snakes
+so long ago.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+That was a foolish tale. Do you not recollect that I am not as the
+rest of you?
+
+EROS.
+
+Come, man, brighten up! You look as sulky as you did when I broke
+your bow and arrows, and set Aphrodite laughing at you. But I have
+learned manners, and the goddesses only smile now. Cheer up! How is
+your destiny a whit different from ours?
+
+HERACLES.
+
+That rude old story about Alcmena, Eros--it is impossible that you
+can be the dupe of that? When I hunted lions on Cithaeron--that
+really _was_ a gentlemanlike sport, my friend--when I hunted lions
+I was not a god. Gods don't hunt lions, Eros; I have not gone
+a-hunting since that curious affair on Mount OEta. You remember it?
+
+EROS.
+
+I have preferred to forget it.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+Only an immortal can afford wilfully to forget, and I--well, you
+know as well as I do that I am only a mortal canonised. I never
+understood the incident, I confess. I lay down among the ferns
+to sleep, after an unusually heavy day's bag of monsters. It was
+sultry weather; I woke to an oppressive sense of singeing, I found
+myself enveloped in a blaze of leaves and brushwood.... But I bore
+you, and what does it matter now? What does anything matter?
+
+EROS.
+
+No, no; pray continue! I am excessively interested. You throw a
+light on something that has always puzzled me, something that----
+
+HERACLES.
+
+A dense black smoke blinded and numbed me. The next moment, as it
+seemed--perhaps it was the next day--I was hustled up through the
+aether to Olympus, and dumped down at the foot of Zeus' throne.
+Perhaps you remember?
+
+EROS.
+
+Yes, for I was there.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+All of you were there. And Zeus came down and took me by the
+wrist. Olympus rang with shouts and the clapping of hands. I was
+hailed with unanimity as an immortal; the ambrosia melted between
+my charred lips; I rose up amongst you all, immaculate and fresh.
+But when, or how, or wherefore I have never known. And now I shall
+never care to know.
+
+EROS.
+
+You are a strange mixture, Heracles; strangely contradictory. You
+never quailed before any scaly horror, you never spared a truculent
+robber or a noisome beast, nor avoided a laborious act----
+
+HERACLES.
+
+These might be quoted, I should have thought, as instances of my
+consistency.
+
+EROS.
+
+Yes, but then (you must really forgive me) your weakness in the
+matter of Omphale did seem, to those who knew you not, like want
+of self-respect. I have the reputation of shrinking, in the pursuit
+of pleasure, from no fantastic disguise, but I never sat spinning
+in the garments of a servant-maid. You must have looked a strange
+daughter of the plough, Heracles. I blush for you to think of it.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+It was odd, certainly. Yet if _you_ cannot comprehend it, Eros, I
+despair of explaining it to anybody. I should never do it again.
+You must admit I showed no want of firmness afterwards in dealing
+with Hebe, but then, she never interested me. Is she here? But do
+not reply, I am not anxious to learn.
+
+EROS.
+
+Your dejection passes beyond all bounds. You cannot have been
+shown the singularly cheerful little jewel which Pallas has brought
+with her? It raises every one's spirits.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+It will not raise mine; for all of you, Eros, have been immortals
+from the beginning, and your mortality is a new and pungent flavour
+on the moral palate. But the taste of it was known of old to me,
+and I am not its dupe. It simply carries me back to the ancient
+weary round of ceaseless struggle, unending battle, incessant
+renascence of the sprouting heads of Hydra; to all that from which
+the windless Olympus was a refuge. Hope is presented--to one who
+has tasted it and who knows that it is futile--without reawakening,
+under such new conditions as we have here, any zest of adventure.
+The jewel of Pandora may be exhilarating to fallen immortality;
+it has no lustre whatever for a backsliding mortal.
+
+    [_Sounds of laughter are heard, and steps ascending from the
+        shore._]
+
+EROS [_to_ HERACLES].
+
+Draw your lion's skin about you less negligently, Heracles; I hear
+visitants approaching. You are not in the woodways of OEta.
+
+    [_The_ OCEANIDES _rush in from the lower woodlands. They are
+        carrying torches, and arrive in a condition of the highest
+        exhilaration._ EROS _proceeds a step or two to meet them, with
+        a smile and a mock reverence_. HERACLES, _brooding over his
+        knees, does not even raise his eyes at their clamorous entry_.]
+
+EROS.
+
+Are you proceeding to set our Father Zeus on fire, or do you intend
+to repeat on our unwilling Heracles the rites of canonisation?
+Have a care with those absurd flambeaux; you will put all the
+underwood aflame. What are you doing with torches?
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+It was Hephaestus who gave them to us to hold. He is in a cave down
+there by the sea, making the most ingenious things in the darkness.
+He called us in to hold these lights----
+
+DORIS.
+
+And oh, Eros, we had such fun, teasing him----
+
+PITHO.
+
+He was quite angry at last----
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+And threatened to nail us to the cliff----
+
+PITHO.
+
+And off we ran, and left him in the dark.
+
+DORIS.
+
+He is coming after us. I never felt so frightened.
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+I never enjoyed myself anywhere so much.
+
+PITHO.
+
+Come away, come away! If he is going to pursue, let us give him
+a long chase, and leave him panting at last!
+
+    [_The_ OCEANIDES _escape, in a tumult of laughter, through the
+        upper woods, as_ HEPHAESTUS, _limping heavily, and much out
+        of breath, appears from below_.]
+
+HEPHAESTUS
+
+The rogues, the rogues!
+
+EROS.
+
+What a cataract of animal spirits! I am afraid, Hephaestus, that
+you do not escape, even here, from the echoes of the laughter of
+heaven.
+
+HERACLES [_savagely_].
+
+Follow them, and strike them down. Take my club, Hephaestus, if
+you have lost your hammer.
+
+HEPHAESTUS.
+
+Strike them! Strike the darling rogues? I would as soon wrap your
+too-celebrated tunic about a little playful marmozet. What is the
+matter with you, Heracles?
+
+HERACLES.
+
+What change, indeed, has come over _you_, you sulky artificer?
+Time was when your pincers would have met in the flesh of maid or
+man who disturbed you in your work. Have you left your forge to
+cool for the mere pleasure of clambering after these ridiculous
+children! Go back to it, Hephaestus, go back and be ashamed.
+
+HEPHAESTUS.
+
+You do not seem deeply engaged yourself. You look sourer and idler
+than the lion's head that dangles at your shoulder. The days are
+long here, though not too long. My handicraft will spare me for
+half an hour to sport with these exquisite and affable fragilities.
+I rather enjoy being laughed at. On Olympus I was rarely troubled
+by such teasing attentions. The little ones seem to enjoy
+themselves in their exile, and, to say true, so do I. My work
+was carried on, I admit, much more smoothly and surely than it
+can be here, and my hand, I am afraid, in crossing the sea, has
+lost much of its infallible cunning. But I enjoy the exercise,
+and I look onward to the art as I never did before, and I seem
+to have more leisure. Can you explain it, Eros?
+
+EROS.
+
+I do not attempt to do so, but I feel a similar and equally
+surprising serenity. Heracles is insensible to it, it seems, and
+he gives me a sort of reason.
+
+HEPHAESTUS.
+
+What is it?
+
+EROS.
+
+Well ... I am not sure that.... Perhaps I ought to leave him to
+explain it.
+
+HERACLES.
+
+You would not be able to comprehend me. I am not sure that I
+myself----
+
+    [_Two of the_ OCEANIDES _re-enter, much more seriously than
+        before, and with an eager importance of gesture_.]
+
+AMPHITRITE.
+
+We are not playing now. We have a message from Zeus, Hephaestus. He
+says that he is waiting impatiently for the sceptre you are making
+for him.
+
+DORIS.
+
+Yes, you must hurry back to your cave. And we are longing to see
+what ornament you are putting on the sceptre. Let us come with
+you. We will hold the torches for you as steadily as if we were
+made of marble.
+
+HEPHAESTUS.
+
+Come, then, come. Let us descend together. I hope that my science
+has not quitted me. We will see whether even on this rugged shore
+and with these uncouth instruments, I cannot prove to Zeus that I
+am still an artist. Come, I am in a hurry to begin. Give me your
+hands, Amphitrite and Doris.
+
+            [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+[_The glen, through which the stream, slightly flooded by a night's
+    rain, runs faintly turbid._ DIONYSUS, _earnestly engaged in
+    angling, does not hear the approach of_ AESCULAPIUS.]
+
+AESCULAPIUS [_in a high, voluble key_].
+
+It is not to me but to you, O ruddy son of Semele, that the crowds
+of invalids will throng, if you cultivate this piscatory art so
+eagerly, since to do nothing, serenely, in the open air, without
+becoming fatigued, is to storm the very citadel of ill-health,
+and----
+
+DIONYSUS [_testily, without turning round_].
+
+Hush! hush!... I felt a nibble.
+
+AESCULAPIUS [_in a whisper, flinging himself upon the grass_].
+
+It was in such a secluded spot as this that Apollo heard the trout
+at Aroanius sing like thrushes.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+How these poets exaggerate! The trout sang, I suppose, like the
+missel-thrush.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+What song has the missel-thrush?
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+It does not sing at all. Nor do trout.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+You are sententious, Dionysus.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+No, but closely occupied. I am intent on the subtle movements of my
+rod, round which my thoughts and fancies wind and blossom till they
+have made a thyrsus of it. Now, however, I shall certainly catch no
+more fish, and so I may rest and talk to you. Are you searching for
+simples in this glen?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+To tell you the plain truth, I am waiting for Nike. She has given
+me an appointment here.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+I have not seen her since we arrived on this island.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+You have seen her, but you have not recognised her. She goes about
+in a perpetual incognito. Poor thing, in our flight from Olympus
+she lost all her attributes--her wings dropped off, her laurel was
+burned, she flung her armour away, and her palm-tree obstinately
+refused to up-root itself.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+No doubt at this moment it is obsequiously rustling over the odious
+usurper.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+It was always rather a poor palm-tree. What Nike misses most are
+her wings. She was excessively dejected when we first arrived, but
+Pallas very kindly allowed her to take care of the jewel for half
+an hour. Nike--if still hardly recognisable--is no longer to be
+taken for Niobe.
+
+DIONYSUS [_rising to his feet_].
+
+I shall do well, however, to go before she comes.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+By no means. I should prefer your staying. Nike will prefer it,
+too. In the old days she always liked you to be her harbinger.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+Not always; sometimes my panthers turned and bit her. But my
+panthers and my vines are gone to keep her laurels and her
+palm-tree company. I think I will not stay, Aesculapius. But what
+does Nike want with you?
+
+    [_Slowly and pensively descending from the upper woods_, NIKE
+        _enters_.]
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+I was excusing myself, Nike, to our learned friend here for not
+having paid my addresses to you earlier. You must have thought me
+negligent?
+
+NIKE.
+
+Oh! Dionysus, I assure you it is not so. Your temperament is one of
+violent extremes--you are either sparkling with miraculous rapidity
+of apprehension, or you are sunken in a heavy doze. These have
+doubtless been some of your sleepy days. And I ... oh! I am very
+deeply changed.
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+No, not at all. Hardly at all. [_He scarcely glances at her, but
+turns to_ AESCULAPIUS.] But farewell to both of you, for I am going
+down to the sea-board to watch for dolphins. That long melancholy
+plunge of the black snout thrills me with pleasure. It always did,
+and the coast-line here curiously reminds me of Naxos. Be kind to
+Aesculapius, Nike.
+
+    [_He descends along the water-course, and exit._ NIKE _smiles
+        sadly, and half holds out her arms towards_ AESCULAPIUS.]
+
+NIKE.
+
+It is for you, O brother of Hermes, to be kind to _me_. How altered
+we all are! Dionysus is not himself.... As I came here, I passed
+below the little grey precipice of limestone----
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Where the marchantias grow? Yes?
+
+NIKE.
+
+And three girls in white dresses, with wreaths of flowers on their
+shoulders, were laughing and chatting there in the shade of the
+great yew-tree. Who do you suppose they were, these laughing girls
+in white?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Perhaps three of the Oceanides, bright as the pure foam of the wave?
+
+NIKE.
+
+Aesculapius, they were not girls. They were the terrible and ancient
+Eumenides, black with the curdled blood of Uranus. They were the
+inexorable Furies, who were wont to fawn about my feet, with the
+adders quivering in their tresses, tormenting me for the spoils
+of victory. What does it mean? Why are they in white? As we came
+hither in the dreadful vessel, they were huddled together at the
+prow, and their long black raiment hung overboard and touched the
+brine. They were mumbling and crooning hate-songs, and pointing
+with skinny fingers to the portents in the sky. What is it that has
+changed their mood? What is it that can have turned the robes of
+the Eumenides white, and enamelled their wrinkled flesh with youth?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Is it not because a like strange metamorphosis has invaded your own
+nature that you have come to meet me here?
+
+NIKE [_after a pause_].
+
+I am bewildered, but I am not unhappy. I come because the secrets
+of life are known to you. I come because it was you whom Zeus sent
+to watch over Cadmus and Harmonia when their dread and comfortable
+change came over them. They were weary with grief and defeat, tired
+of being for ever overwhelmed by the ever-mounting wave of mortal
+fate. I am weary----
+
+AESCULAPIUS [_slowly_].
+
+Of what, Nike? Be true to yourself. Of what are you weary?
+
+NIKE.
+
+I come to you that you may tell. I know no better than the snake
+knows when his skin withers and bloats. I feel distress,
+apprehension, no pain, a little fear.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+You speak of Cadmus and Harmonia; but is not your case the opposite
+of theirs? They were saved from defeat; is it not your unspoken hope
+to be saved from victory, saved from what was your essential self?
+
+NIKE.
+
+Can it be so? I find, it is true, that I look back upon my rush
+and blaze of battle with no real regret. What a vain thing it was,
+the perpetual clash and resonance of a victory that no one could
+withstand; the mockery that conquest must be to an immortal whom no
+one can ever really oppose;--no veritable difficulty to overcome,
+no genuine resistance to meet, nothing positively tussled with and
+thrown, nothing but ghostly armies shrinking and melting a little
+way in front of my advancing eagles! That can never happen again,
+and even through the pang of losing my laurel and my wings, I did
+not genuinely deplore it. Nothing but the sheer intoxication of my
+immortality had kept me at the pitch. And now that it is gone, oh
+wisest of the gods, it is for you to tell me how, in this mortal
+state, I can remain happy and yet be _me_.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+You are on the high road to happiness; you see its towers over
+the dust, for you dare to know yourself.
+
+NIKE.
+
+Myself, Aesculapius?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Yes; you have that signal, that culminating courage.
+
+NIKE.
+
+But it is because I do _not_ know my way that I come to you.
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+To recognise the way is one thing, it is much; but to recognise
+yourself is infinitely more, and includes the way.
+
+NIKE.
+
+Ah! I see. I think I partly see. The element of real victory was
+absent where no defeat could be.
+
+AESCULAPIUS [_eagerly_].
+
+Dismal, sooty, raven-coloured robes of the Eumenides!
+
+NIKE.
+
+And it may be present even where no final conquest can ensue?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+Ah! how white they grow! How the serpents drop out of their
+tresses.
+
+NIKE.
+
+I am feeling forward with my finger-tips, like a blind woman
+searching.... And the real splendour of victory may consist in the
+helpless mortal state; may blossom there, while it only budded in
+our immortality?
+
+AESCULAPIUS.
+
+May consist, really, of the effort, the desire, the act of
+gathering up the will to make the plunge. This will be victory
+now, it will be the drawing of the bow-string and not the mere
+cessation of the arrow-flight.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+    [_The main terrace, soon after dawn. In the centre_ ZEUS _sits
+        alone, throned and silent. One by one the Gods come out of
+        the house, and arrange themselves in a semicircle, to the
+        left and right, each as he passes making obeisance to_ ZEUS.
+        _It is a perfectly still morning, and a dense white mist
+        hangs over the woods, completely hiding the sea and the
+        farther shore. When all are seated._]
+
+ZEUS [_in a very slow voice_].
+
+My children, since we came here I have not been visited until
+to-night by even a shadow of those forebodings which, in the form
+of divine prescience, illuminated my plans and your fortunes in
+Olympus. [_A pause, while the gods lean towards him in deepest
+attention._] But a dream came close to my pillow last night and
+whispered to me strange, disquieting words.... I have no longer the
+art of clairvoyance, but I find I am not wholly dark. Still can I
+faintly divine the forms of the future, as we may all divine the
+roll of the woods before us, and the cleft which leads down to the
+shore, although this impalpable vapour shrouds our world.... And,
+from the dream, or from my faint perceptions, I am made aware that
+another mighty change is approaching us.
+
+        [_A silence._]
+
+HERACLES.
+
+Can you indicate to us the nature of this change? [_Looking round
+the semicircle._] If it is permitted to us to do so we would
+repudiate it. [_The gods in silence signify their assent._]
+
+ZEUS [_not replying to_ HERACLES].
+
+When we fled hither from the consuming malignity of the traitor,
+it was communicated to me that this island on the very uttermost
+border of the world was left us as a home from which we should
+never be dislodged. Here we were to dwell in peace, and here ... to
+grow old, and ... die. Here, in the meantime, new interests, humble
+wishes, cheerful curiosities have already twined about us, and we
+have gazed upon Pandora's jewel, and are no more the same.
+
+PERSEPHONE.
+
+Are we to be driven hence still farther towards the confines of
+immensity, father?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I know not.
+
+KRONOS.
+
+More journeys, more weary, weary journeys?
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I know but what I tell you ... that I foresee a change. [_A
+silence._] How breathless is the air. Not the outline of a leaf is
+shaken against the sky.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+But the mist grows thinner, and high up in it I see a faint
+blueness.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+I do not--nothing but the bewildering woolly whiteness, that chills
+my eyeballs.... [_With a sudden vivacity._] Ah! yes ... it is the
+sea! Is Poseidon here?
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+I went down to the shore very early indeed this morning, before
+there was an atom of mist in the air. I called upon the glassy,
+oily sea, and I could not but fancy that, although there was little
+motion in the wave, it did roll faintly to my foot, and fawn at me
+in its reply. To me also, father, it seemed as though my element
+was burdened with a secret which it knew not how to convey to me.
+
+[_A silence._]
+
+APHRODITE [_aside to_ PALLAS].
+
+If we must be driven forth again, let us at least cling to such
+new gifts as we have secured here.
+
+PALLAS [_in an eager whisper_].
+
+I should like to know what you consider them to be. Do you hold
+introspection as one of them?
+
+APHRODITE.
+
+I certainly do. The analysis of one's own feelings, and the sense
+of watching the fluctuating symptoms of one's individuality, form
+one of the principal consolations of our mortal state.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I think I should give it another name.
+
+HERMES [_who has come up behind them, and bending forward has
+    overheard the conversation_].
+
+My name for it would be the indulgence of personal vanity.
+
+APHRODITE [_speaks louder, while the conversation becomes general,
+    except that_ ZEUS _takes no part in it_].
+
+You may call it so, if you please, but it is a source of genuine
+pleasure to us.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Ignorance is doubtless another of these consolations--ignorance
+chemically modified by a few drops of the desire for knowledge....
+[_Enthusiastically._] And all the chastened forms of recollection,
+how delightful they are, and how they add to our satisfaction here!
+
+NIKE.
+
+It would be interesting to me to understand what you mean by
+chastened forms of recollection. I don't think that is my
+experience.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+I conceive memory as a pure, unbiased emotion, an image of past
+life cast upon an unflawed mirror. Why do you say "chastened"?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+That memory which is nothing but a plain reproduction on the mirror
+of the mind is a tame concern, Pallas. It transfers, without
+modification, all that is dull, and squalid, and unessential. The
+only memory which is worthy of those who have tasted immortality is
+that which has in some degree been fortified. To recollect with
+enjoyment is to select certain salient facts from an experience and
+to be oblivious of the rest; or else it is to heighten the exciting
+elements of an event out of all proportion with historic fact; or
+it even is to place what should be in the seat of what precisely
+was.... But this must be done firmly, logically, with no timidity
+in reminiscence, so that the mind shall rest in a perfectly
+artistic conviction that what it recollects is all the truth and
+nothing but the truth. This is chastened, or, if you prefer it,
+civilised memory. But Zeus is about to speak.
+
+    [_The Gods resume their seats in silence._ ZEUS _rises from his
+        throne, and the Gods perceive that the mist has now almost
+        entirely evaporated around them, and that the entire scene
+        is luminous with morning radiance. All the Gods lean forward
+        to gaze on_ ZEUS, _who gazes over and beyond them to the sea_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+The whole bay heaves in one vast wave of unbroken pearl.... And in
+the east something flashes ... something moves ... approaches.
+
+    [_All the Gods, except_ KRONOS _and_ RHEA, _rise and follow with
+        their gaze the extended hand of_ ZEUS. POSEIDON _steps forward
+        to the front of the scene and shouts_.]
+
+POSEIDON.
+
+See! Three huge white ships are coming out of the east, and the
+waves glide away at their wake in widening glassy hues. How they
+speed! How they speed, without oar or sail!
+
+KRONOS.
+
+No rest, no sleep for us. Leave us here behind you, Zeus. We never
+have any rest.
+
+RHEA.
+
+Yes; do not drag us farther in the wearisome train of your
+misfortunes.
+
+ZEUS [_benignly, turning to them._]
+
+Be not afraid, Rhea and Kronos. But we must not abandon you. For
+the old sakes' sake we will hold together to the end.
+
+ARES.
+
+Shall we not collect our forces in unison, mortal as they are,
+and die together in resisting this invasion?
+
+DIONYSUS.
+
+The kind barbarians are with us. They will fight at our side.
+
+HEPHAESTUS.
+
+Yes, let us fight and die.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+You have no forces to collect, my sons. We cannot take toll of the
+blood of the barbarians. We cannot resist, we can but submit and
+withdraw.... The ships fleet closer. They are like monstrous fishes
+of living silver. I confess this is not what I anticipated. This
+is not what my faint dream seemed to indicate. What inspires the
+implacable destroyer to pursue us, and with this imposing and
+miraculous navy, to the shore of that harmless exile in which we
+were endeavouring to forget his existence, I know not. But let us
+at least preserve that dignity which has survived our deity.
+Whatever may be now in store for us--if the worst of all things
+be now hurrying to complete our annihilation--let us meet it with
+simplicity. Let us meet it with an even mind.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Oh, see! what are those filaments of blue and violet and grassy
+green which flutter in the cordage of the three ships?
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+They leap forward, though no wind is blowing.
+
+CIRCE.
+
+They are arranged in order, and they bend upwards and now outwards.
+
+HERA.
+
+The colours of them are those which adorn my bird.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+Ah! wonder of wonders! These have joined one another, see, and now
+they shoot forward together in a vibrating ribband of delicious
+lustre, and now it is arched to our shore, and descends at the
+lowest of these our woodland stairs.
+
+ZEUS.
+
+A vast rainbow from the three white vessels to this island!... And
+behold, a figure steps from it. She is robed to the feet in palest
+watchet blue, and her face is like a rosy star, and she waves her
+violet wings in the incommunicable speed of her ascent. My
+children, it is Iris, our lost daughter, our ineffable messenger.
+Let us await in silence the tidings which she brings.
+
+    [ZEUS _seats himself, and the Gods take their places as before.
+        The air is now translucent, the sky cloudless, while the
+        beechwoods flash with the lustre of dew, and the sea beyond
+        the white ships is like a floor of turquoise._ IRIS _is seen
+        to rise from the shore, through the gorge in the woods. She
+        approaches, half flying, half climbing, with incredible
+        velocity. She appears, in her splendour, at the top of the
+        stairs, and looks round upon the Gods. Without exception, in
+        the magnificence of her presence they look grey and old and
+        dim. She hesitates a moment, and then kneels before the
+        throne of_ ZEUS.]
+
+IRIS.
+
+Father and lawgiver! Imperial Master of Heaven! The rebellion in
+Olympus is over. The usurper has fallen under the weight of his
+own presumption, lower than the lowest chasms of Hades, chained for
+all eternity by the fetters of his own insolence and madness. It
+is not needful for you, Zeus, to punish or to be clement. Under
+the inevitable rebound of his impious frenzy, himself has sealed
+his doom for ever and ever. It is now for the Father of Heaven, and
+these his children, to resume their immortality and to regain their
+incomparable abodes. Be it my reward for the joyous labour of
+bringing the good news, to be the first to kiss these awful and
+eternal feet.
+
+    [IRIS _flings herself before_ ZEUS _in adoration, and folds her
+        wings about her face. As she touches him, his deity blazes
+        forth from him. When_ IRIS _rises again, she glances round
+        at the Gods with gratified astonishment, for all of them
+        have become brilliant and young_.]
+
+ZEUS.
+
+Lead the way, Iris. This is no longer a place for us. Lead on and
+we will follow. Lead on, that we may resume our immortality.
+
+    [IRIS _flies down to the sea, and_ ZEUS _descends the steps.
+        He is followed by all the other deities._]
+
+CIRCE.
+
+Were we really happy among these trees? I can scarcely credit it,
+they seem so common and so frail.
+
+NIKE.
+
+Ha, my palm and my laurel and my wings. How can I have breathed
+without them for an hour?
+
+APHRODITE [_to_ EROS].
+
+Shall we recollect this little episode when we walk up the golden
+street presently to our houses?
+
+EROS.
+
+I cannot think so, mother. That refinement of memory of which
+Phoebus was speaking will seem the most ridiculous of illusions
+there.
+
+PHOEBUS.
+
+Yes; to cultivate illusion, to live in the past, to resuscitate
+experience, may be the amusements of mortality, but they mean
+nothing now to us. When Selene re-enters her orb, she will not
+disquiet herself about the disorders of its interregnum.
+
+PALLAS [_hastily reascending_].
+
+I have left Pandora's jewel behind me. I must fetch it.
+
+HERMES [_the last to descend_].
+
+Let me confess that I took it from you. One of the barbarians was
+weeping, and I wished, I cannot tell why, to see her smile. I gave
+your jewel to her.
+
+PALLAS.
+
+It is of no moment. It would be an inconspicuous ornament in that
+blaze of the heart's beauty to which the white ships are about to
+carry us.
+
+HERMES.
+
+Come, then, Pallas, and let us linger here no more.
+
+    [_They descend and disappear._]
+
+
+
+
+            THE END.
+
+
+
+
+Printed by
+BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
+London & Edinburgh
+
+
+
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note
+
+Variant spellings in this ebook have been retained to match the
+original document.
+
+The use of an ae-ligature in the name 'Hephaestus' has been
+regularized. The oe-ligature is represented by 'oe' in the text
+version of this ebook, and retains the oe-ligature in the HTML
+version. Ellipses have been regularized.
+
+The original text contained duplicate headers for Acts; these
+duplications have been omitted in this ebook.
+
+The following typographical corrections were made to this text:
+
+   Page 16: Added missing period (EROS.)
+
+   Page 16: Changed em-dash to long dash to match style of text
+
+   Page 16: Changed casket to caskets (all the empty caskets)
+
+   Page 28: Added missing comma (he answered, "Pray don't)
+
+  Page 101: Changed 'o' to 'of' (It is kind of)
+
+  Page 132: Added missing period (CHLORIS.)
+
+  Page 140: Changed 'o' to 'of' (degradation, instead of)
+
+
+
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